


The Cost of Healing

by Chibiobiwan, spamlet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bandomeer, Deus Ex Machina Anakin, Eventual Happy Ending, Force Healing, Gen, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, I Made It Worse, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Melida/Daan, Missions Gone Wrong, Mostly dead is still mostly alive, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Planet Naboo (Star Wars), Temporary Character Death, Young Obi-Wan, canon broke itself, self-sacrifice isn't always good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:53:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23956411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiobiwan/pseuds/Chibiobiwan, https://archiveofourown.org/users/spamlet/pseuds/spamlet
Summary: The power of force healing is not without risk. Throughout his life, Obi-Wan must learn the balance between self-preservation and selfishness.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 75
Kudos: 399
Collections: Star Wars Big Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to [Spamlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spamlet/pseuds/spamlet) who created the absolutely gorgegous art for this fic and [stardustgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl) for her excellent betaing that made all the difference. And a special shoutout to [LadyDisdayne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDisdayne/pseuds/LadyDisdayne) who dealt with my shenanigans while I wrote this.
> 
> Obi-Wan is five years old at the beginning of this chapter.

Obi-Wan grunted as he crashed to the ground, temporarily stunned from his fall from the garden path’s ledge.

“What is this, hmm?” Master Yoda appeared from around the thick foliage that Obi-Wan had floundered into.

Obi-Wan looked back at the Jedi, horrified. The last person he wanted to see him like this was the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. Everyone looked up to Yoda, even the tallest Jedi. He quickly used his sleeve to wipe at his face, hoping that his tears hadn’t been noticed.

“Running from something, were you?” Yoda asked as he moved closer, despite the tangled mess of leaves and branches left in Obi-Wan’s wake. 

Obi-Wan quickly shook his head. He didn’t want Yoda to think he was a coward. He tried so hard to be good, but it made him so mad when Bruck pushed or tripped him. His Creche Master Sere said that he had to learn serenity, even when Bruck was trying to tease him. It didn’t feel like teasing though. It hurt.

“Hurt yourself, you have,” Yoda said reprovingly, drawing attention to the sting of Obi-Wan’s hands and knees.

Obi-Wan tried to scramble to his feet, but the thorns in the shrub that Master Yoda so deftly avoided caught in his already torn clothes. He managed to stand, but only after Master Yoda had helped steady him with his hand. 

“I’m sorry, Master Yoda.” Obi-Wan couldn’t stop the tremble in his voice and he quickly went silent, horribly embarrassed by his actions.

“Apologize to your Creche Master, you should. Worried they are.”

To Obi-Wan’s horror, he could feel his chin begin to wobble. He had been trying to keep his temper under control. He’d been trying so hard to be good and he’d only made everything worse.

Obi-Wan tried to look away as the first tear began to fall, but Yoda’s small, clawed hand squeezed his own.

“Worried I am. Let me help, will you?” Yoda asked, his voice quiet, but warm.

Obi-Wan nodded quickly, not wanting to humiliate himself further by bursting into the sobs that choked in his throat.

With Yoda’s help, Obi-Wan managed to escape the thorn bush with only a few more scrapes. He was sure that he was a mess. His hands and knees had only stung at first but now felt like thousands of fire-ants were biting him. It was all he could do to stay quiet as he followed Master Yoda out into the open garden. Would the Jedi Master take him straight back to his creche group? Then everyone would see where his stupidity had gotten him.

  


“Sit, you should.”

Obi-Wan looked at Yoda in confusion. They were still in the middle of the garden, if he wasn’t being taken back to his Creche group then he thought that he’d be taken to the healers. 

But then it made sense. Obi-Wan wasn’t that badly hurt, and he had disobeyed his Creche Master. Master Yoda was going to punish him here and now.

Obi-Wan knelt formally despite the wave of hurt that shot from his knees, instantly inspiring more tears. He heard Yoda sigh as the old Jedi slowly sat next to him before gently tapping Obi-Wan’s thighs.

“Sit comfortably, you should.”

Obi-Wan managed to fall on his hands as he scrambled to shift, the extra sting finally pulling a broken sob from his lips.

Two small green hands pulled him into a hug that Obi-Wan desperately leaned into, overwhelmed completely by the events of the day.

Obi-Wan sobbed with everything he had, each cry making the next one easier and finally freeing the hurt and anxiety that had been building with every poke and prod. Yoda held him throughout it all, not saying anything till at last Obi-Wan exhausted himself enough to notice that even though he still felt sad, it didn’t hurt as much on the outside.

He pulled away enough to look at his hands, startled to see there was no sign of scrapes or torn skin. He must have made a noise of confusion because Yoda chuckled softly.

“Healed you, I have. Let me help you now, hmm?”

Obi-Wan looked over at Yoda, wide-eyed. He had heard stories of Force healing in the Creche, but when other younglings had been hurt they had always been taken to the Healers.

“Will I learn how to do that if I become a Jedi Knight?” Obi-Wan asked eagerly, grateful for the distraction, and hopeful despite everything that had happened that day.

“Hmm, small hurts, easy to heal they are. Happy to give you help I was, but dangerous healing can be for a short-lived Jedi.” Yoda patted his head as Obi-Wan went cross-eyed trying to understand.

“You mean ‘cause I’m human?” Everyone knew Yoda was old. Like really really old. Obi-Wan really wasn’t sure how old, but definitely older than anyone else in the Jedi Order. It made sense that humans wouldn’t live that long.

Yoda nodded, “Live a good life you will, but give too much, and die too early you could.”

“Give too much of what?” 

“Life Force all Jedi have, some long and deep, some short and shallow. Give too much from your cup you should not.”

“What do you mean—”  
  
Yoda cut him off with a shake of his head, ending Obi-Wan’s barrage of questions before they could really get started.

“Avoiding your fears you are. Only grow bigger, they will.”

Obi-Wan’s exuberance felt as though it had never existed, the day’s events coming back to the forefront of his mind. With a heartfelt sigh, Obi-Wan tucked his newly healed knees to his chin. His torn pants would tell everyone exactly how dumb he’d been once he went back.

“Leave your group, you did, hmm? Why you did, tell me you should.”

Master Yoda had healed him even though he didn’t need to, the least Obi-Wan could do was tell the truth. He hoped that the Grand Master would forgive him.

“I was trying to listen to Master Sere during the lesson. She always tells me not to let Bruck distract me, so I was trying really really hard.”

“Hmm, succeed he did?”

Obi-Wan looked down, not willing to meet Yoda’s eyes. “He wouldn’t stop poking me.” The stick had been sharp, and Bruck had chosen the spot on Obi-Wan’s back carefully, poking again and again until Obi-Wan had been sure he’d been bleeding. He’d tried to get up to move but had been told to sit back down. He’d raised his hand to be excused, but Master Sere had been in the middle of an explanation and told him to wait.

The last poke had broken Obi-Wan’s resolve and sent him to his feet. Master Sere had called after him as he ran away, but it had been too much and Obi-Wan had kept running, not wanting Bruck to see that he had won and made Obi-Wan cry after all. And then after all that, Obi-Wan hadn’t watched where he had been going and ran off the garden path and fell into the bush Yoda had found him in.

“So ran away you did,” Yoda said after a moment.

Obi-Wan wanted so badly for Master Yoda to understand, for any adult to understand that he’d just been trying to be good. “I didn’t want to get mad and do something bad. I just… didn’t know what else to do.”

“Hmm, difficult choice you had. Sometimes enduring is all a Jedi can do.”

Obi-Wan’s tense shoulders went lax. He had failed again. He would have been able to ignore Bruck if he was a real Jedi.

“Sometimes, step away a Jedi must do as well.” Yoda continued, his hand soothed up and down Obi-Wan’s back, “Choosing what direction to step, makes all the difference it does.”

Obi-Wan finally looked over at Master Yoda, trying to understand the old Jedi’s words, struggling to overcome his feeling of lacking.

“Run from your Creche Master you should not,” Yoda said not unkindly, “But tolerate mistreatment you should not. Another choice did you have?”

Obi-Wan clenched his eyebrows, trying to think. He wasn’t supposed to hit back, that would have been revenge and also bad. 

“I tried to tell Master Sere…”

“Listen to you, she did not.” Master Yoda nodded sagely, his ears bent down. “Mistake she made, but still, choose you must when others fail.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip before saying doubtfully, “I could have yelled at Bruck to stop?”

A chuckle escaped Master Yoda, “Interrupted Master Sere it would have.” Strangely, Obi-Wan didn’t think Master Yoda said it like it was a bad thing.

“Isn’t it bad to interrupt the lesson though?”

Master Yoda grunted, “Think running away interrupt the lesson did not?”

“Oh…” That was true, but Obi-Wan already knew that he would be in trouble either way.

“Interrupt for good reasons, bad it is not.” Yoda patted Obi-Wan’s back once more before slowly getting to his feet. “Runaway to save your pride, bad it is.”

Obi-Wan felt his cheeks grow hot. Somehow Master Yoda knew exactly why Obi-Wan had run away rather than to his Creche Master. He hadn’t wanted Bruck to win, hadn’t wanted the other boy to see that his stabs had made him cry after all.

“I’m sorry, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan said again.

“Hmm, young you are. Learn you will, to not run into thorn bushes.”

Obi-Wan let out a startled laugh, “Yes, Master Yoda.”

“Take you back to your Creche Master, I will. Apologize and explain, you will.”

Obi-Wan nodded solemnly and got to his feet to follow Master Yoda. He would do better next time, and, one day, he’d become a Jedi Knight.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to help someone like Master Yoda had.

  
  
**7 Years Later**

Obi-Wan couldn’t help anyone, let alone himself.

He had hoped, had pleaded, in the Force that somehow, despite what everyone told him, that he would become a Padawan, and eventually a Jedi Knight. Obi-Wan had thought that maybe, despite his gruff disposition, that Qui-Gon Jinn would want Obi-Wan by his side.

He didn’t. No one did, and no one ever would. 

Obi-Wan was sent away to the AgriCorps on Bandomeer, still trying to prove himself to a Master who wanted nothing to do with a Padawan, let alone Obi-Wan.

Maybe Obi-Wan should have listened, become a farmer, and forget his dream of being a warrior, a peacekeeper. At least then he could have maybe made a difference, even if it was just by growing peas.

Instead, Obi-Wan had stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, catching the attention of Xanatos, Qui-Gon Jinn’s former apprentice, after discovering yet another mysterious box with only a half-circle sigil marking it. He hadn’t even been able to discover what was inside before he was attacked and knocked out.

Now, he was literally buried in darkness, just trying to scrape by.

A miner yelped as a guard lashed out with an electro-jabber, ordering their exhausted crew to work faster. Obi-Wan and the rest of the miners increased their tempo for a few minutes before fading into a more manageable pace. The heat this far below ground was nearly unbearable, and every move jarred Obi-Wan’s ribs and reverberated through his skull, still aching from a blunt force blow, but he kept going anyway. He had no choice. None of them did.

The undersea mining facility that Obi-Wan had been taken to after being kidnapped by Xanatos was a death trap for anyone unlucky enough to end up there. Supposedly, after five years of indentured servitude, the miners would be paid for their work and free to leave, but Guerra, a Phindian miner who had taken Obi-Wan under his wing, had never seen anyone make it that long. 

In truth, with the explosive electro-collars on each of them, they were nothing more than slaves. The collars made even an escape attempt mean certain, violent death, unless he could somehow disable it.

And Obi-Wan had to escape.

No matter how much he wished things were different, there was no one to save him now. Even if Master Jinn knew he was missing from the AgriCorps, he still wouldn’t know to look for Obi-Wan somewhere in the expanse of the Great Sea of Bandomeer. During his short glimpses of the sky on the platform where the miners slept and ate, there was nothing but endless ocean, horizon to horizon. Even in the Force, Obi-Wan could only sense that land was somewhere to the distant East. Without a hydrocraft or ship, trying to escape was only a surefire way to die.

And Obi-Wan didn’t want to die. 

He accidentally pushed too hard on the drill, making it skip and slide under his hands and jolting his ribs in the process. He wanted to rest and drink some water, but the guards were always watching, ready to prod any of them who looked weak. If he was going to escape, he would need the Force to guide him, and that meant he needed to heal from his injuries. Then he would be ready—then he would steal a hydrocraft with Guerra and escape. 

After a full shift of grueling work, their crew was released to go back up the lift tubes that went through the ocean and deep into the ground. When the lift doors opened, the fresh sea air felt like a gift of Life from the Force itself, even if it was past dark and bitterly cold.

“Looking forward to today’s feast, Obi-Wan?” Guerra asked before laughing, “So, not so.”

Obi-Wan huffed out what had been meant to be a chuckle, not having the energy to expend even on that. The OffWorld Mining Corporation didn’t care about maintaining their workforce, so there was no need to waste money on full rations. Obi-Wan managed to get his half-ration before a fight broke out among the miners. Everyone was hungry and the guards enjoyed taking bets on the fights.

Guerra stayed close, despite telling Obi-Wan that everyone was out for themselves, including him. The Phindian was the closest person Obi-Wan had to a friend in this place, and when Obi-Wan laid down he trusted his friend to keep watch as he closed his eyes and reached out to the force.

While Obi-Wan didn’t know how Master Yoda had healed him all those years ago, he was accident-prone and curious enough that one of the Healers had taught him how to use the Force in a Healing Trance to help himself. Obi-Wan hadn’t been very good at first, but life had given him plenty of opportunities to practice. 

And until his duel with Bruck, he had thought the skill was to his advantage, but it had been impossible to explain to his Creche leader, or any of the other Masters, why Bruck had been injured and Obi-Wan seemingly not so. Obi-Wan had been labeled too aggressive to ever become a Jedi Knight, and his fate had been sealed.

Now the skill was his only chance of survival. He couldn’t focus enough to break the electro-collar, but a Healing Trance at the bare minimum only required opening up to the Force and allowing it to restore the true nature of your being. It took time, but night by night Obi-Wan got a bit stronger despite the terrible conditions on the mining platform. Soon he would be strong enough to disable the collar and escape. He just had to figure out how. Despite the odds, he had to try.

The next day before sunrise they were woken by the guards’ yells to hurry up and move. The miners scrambled from their short rest and in groups of ten began the long descent back into the earth. At first, the cold crept in, the miners huddling together for warmth, but as the lift tube plunged deeper, the earth itself began to warm. The mines were too close to the world’s core, and Obi-Wan’s crew worked at one of the lowest levels.

Hours later Obi-Wan was pulled from the stupor of hard labor when a nearby a miner swore in Huttese, Obi-Wan looked over, distracted, as the guards yelled at the miner to get back to work, but panic filled the Toydarian’s eyes as they shoved their way past the guards.

Then Obi-Wan felt the rumble. Guerra grabbed hold of him, “Stay here we should, so not so.”   
Miners and guards converged in a panicked mob trying to escape the mine tunnel as at first black dust and then rocks began crushing down.

“Hmph” Guerra’s grunt was hardly audible in the tumult, but Obi-Wan felt his friend begin to lag behind. They just had to get a bit further—Obi-Wan grabbed hold of Guerra’s jumpsuit and jumped away just the last of the cave-in came to a rumbling halt. The silence left behind wasn’t even left to settle however as the guards began yelling at the miners, blaming them for the cave in and loss of progress.

Obi-Wan stared at the cave in dully, feeling the pain and terror of the men and women still resonating from the collapsed mine. There was no point in trying to save them. At least now they were free.

Guerra, let out a low keen as he tried to move. Obi-Wan scrambled to help his friend who was holding his arm close to his chest. “Are you alright?” Obi-Wan whispered, hoping to avoid the guard's attention for one more moment as the miners recovered.

“Aha!” Guerra tried to laugh, coming out as more of a choke, “Never better—” Guerra pushed himself against the wall, trying to lever himself up. With a gasp he sank back down, despair growing in his eyes. “So not so, I think, broken my arm is.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach lurched, it would be as good as a death sentence down here. If only he could help Guerra, could heal him like Yoda had done for him so many years ago. 

Obi-Wan knelt beside Guerra, feeling out blindly with the force. Guerra’s pain radiated sharply and was easy to pinpoint, but Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do. If Obi-Wan could just dig into the Force within himself then maybe— 

A guard grabbed Obi-Wan’s shoulder, shoving him away. “We’re evacuating this shaft! Move!”

Obi-Wan landed on his hands as the guard turned his attention to Guerra. In a split second, Obi-Wan ducked past the guard and grabbed Guerra, ignoring the man’s yelp as he pulled him up and away from the guard's attention.

“We’re going!” Obi-Wan shouted behind him, trying to escape notice. It didn’t matter if Obi-Wan wasn’t ready yet. They had to leave before Guerra’s injury was discovered.

The cave-in created enough confusion that Obi-Wan was able to shove him and Guerra onto the lift tube with a crew that was just finishing their shift. In the minutes it took to get to the surface Obi-Wan made a plan. Or at least part of one.

The miners spilled out the lifttube, each going their own way. Leaving Obi-Wan to pull Guerra towards the supply Wing. 

“Let go, Obi-Wan. Everything alright it is.” Guerra winced as Obi-Wan tried to steer them away from their normal path.

“So, not so.” Obi-Wan snapped back, pausing only a moment to meet Guerras pained gaze. “Guerra we have to go.”  
“Ask the guards I will then,” Guerra said, pushing away with a distressed laugh.

“Please, Guerra, trust me.”

Guerra stopped, looking at the floor, “Trust no one I do.”

Obi-Wan squeezed Guerras arm. “Come on.” 

The Phindian followed Obi-Wan to the entrance of the Supply Wing where a guard was waiting.

Without the Force, their effort would have been hopeless, but Obi-Wan had recovered enough of his strength to reach out with the Force and push. He still hadn’t regained his full strength, but the mind of the Imbat guard was small and easy to manipulate. The guard let them pass down the hall and Obi-Wan allowed the Force to guide him and opened an unmarked door, looking for access keys to a ship, while Guerra stayed in the doorway.

Instead, Obi-Wan found yet another mysterious box with the sigil of the half-circle, distracting him for half a moment.

“Guards are coming, I hear them. Must be a silent alarm.” Guerra said worriedly.

“Come in and shut the door!” Obi-Wan whispered. If they could buy enough time then maybe— 

Guerra stepped back and began to shout, calling the guards to their position.

Obi-Wan kept frantically searching until the first guard punched him in the gut with an electro-jabber, instantly sending him crashing to the floor.

“The penalty for stealing is being thrown overboard.” The guard sneered as he grabbed Obi-Wan by the hair, dragging him away. Obi-Wan managed to stumble to his feet, tears of pain pooling in his eyes. He didn’t blame Guerra, the Phindian had disappeared not long after they had been caught. At least his friend wouldn’t pay for Obi-Wan’s mistake.

Once they reached the top of the platform, the guard let go of Obi-Wan, shoving him towards the edge. Obi-Wan glanced behind him, the fall was high enough that if he didn’t dive right it could break bones, maybe even kill him. 

The guard stabbed out with the electro-jabber, laughing as he forced Obi-Wan back towards the edge. Even if Obi-Wan made the dive, there would be nothing to hold on to once he was in the water, only support beams and distant Hydrocrafts. He could swim for an hour, maybe more if he called upon the Force, but what good would it do?

Obi-Wan was too slow to avoid the next stab and he flinched as the electrocurrent wracked through him. 

There wouldn’t be an escape from this.

Obi-Wan took a step back and felt only air reach out to meet him. Between one beat of his heart and the next Obi-Wan accepted his fate, falling back, at peace with the Force. 

It saved his life.

Without really knowing why, Obi-Wan followed the currents of the Force, pushing himself through the air itself back towards the platform, plunging towards an uncertain fate. 

And into the net Guerra held levels below.

“Guerra?!” Obi-Wan gasped as the Phindian pulled him in.

“Let you die, I should have.” Guerra said worriedly, “Take your time you should. So, not so”

Obi-Wan listened to the Phindian’s sarcasm and started towards the lift tube before freezing in his tracks. No matter what Qui-Gon had said, Obi-Wan recognized the feeling of safety and warmth that flowed between them. He felt it clearly even now.

Obi-Wan slowly turned as Qui-Gon climbed up the railing behind them.

“I had hoped you’d come.” Obi-Wan managed to say.

Qui-Gon nodded, gesturing them back towards the railing, “Almost too late. Hurry.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Guerra and touched the collar around his neck, “We can’t leave yet, the electro-collars will blow us up.”

Qui-Gon strode forward, touching Obi-Wan’s collar first. Obi-Wan felt the Force pool around his neck before, with a click, the continuous buzzing stopped.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan whispered as he moved out of the way for Guerra, but before Guerra’s collar could be disabled, the lift tube doors opened and only Qui-Gon’s lightsaber stopped them from being hit by the rain of blaster fire.

“I think you’ll need this.” Qui-Gon tossed Obi-Wan his lightsaber, much to his delight. He thought he had lost it to Xanatos days ago. 

Together, they managed to take care of the first wave of guards but were separated from Guerra in the process. Obi-Wan could only hope that his friend would be able to hide until they could disable the transmitter for the electro-collars. Without the threat of death hanging over the miners, they would easily outnumber and overpower the guards.

“Time to go!” Qui-Gon shouted, blocking the oncoming blasts as Obi-Wan climbed over the side of the platform, using the rope that Qui-Gon had climbed up with to slide down to a waiting hydrocraft. Qui-Gon followed close behind and quickly set a course for the shore.

Obi-Wan blocked the rain of fire from the angry guards until they were out of range. Exhausted, despite it being only the beginning of the day, Obi-Wan dropped onto his seat. Qui-Gon noticed and pulled out a pack with food and water with one hand. Gratefully, Obi-Wan rifled through, happily drinking to his heart's content for the first time since being kidnapped. 

Even though Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon would never take him as a Padawan, it was hard not to hope when the Force sang when they were together. 

“How did you find me?” Obi-Wan asked, the crash of the hydrocraft against oncoming waves nearly masking his voice.

Qui-Gon stared straight ahead, “There was a witness to the OffWorld guards taking you aboard a hydrocraft. I deduced that they had taken you to an OffWorld Sea Facility from there.” Qui-Gon spared a brief look at Obi-Wan. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Oh.” So it hadn’t been their connection in the Force after all. Obi-Wan should have known better, Qui-Gon was only doing his duty as a Jedi Master. Still, he was grateful, despite Guerra’s rescue they would have been killed for their rebellion if Qui-Gon hadn’t arrived when he had.

“The signal for the electro-collars is coming from nearby.” Obi-Wan refocused the conversation, not wanting to dwell any longer on hopeless dreams. Xanatos had destroyed whatever chance Obi-Wan could have had long ago.

“I’ll trace it.” Qui-Gon used the hydrocraft’s computer to find the coordinates, agreeing easily to help free the miners.

The guardhouse where the signal originated had only two guards and between Obi-Wan providing a distraction and Qui-Gon’s swift action, it was easy to disarm them both and find the transmitter. Obi-Wan quickly retrieved it, and entered the command to mass disable all of the collars. 

At least some good came from Obi-Wan’s captivity. 

Obi-Wan slipped the transmitter into his pocket and turned to Qui-Gon. The true villain behind all of this was Xanatos, who seemingly would stop at nothing to hurt his former Master. Obi-Wan needed to understand, even if Qui-Gon wasn’t ready to tell him.

“Why has Xanatos done all of this?”

Qui-Gon met his gaze with dark worried eyes, “He will do anything for revenge, but he always has a back door. He knows better than to incriminate OffWorld like this.”

“...He’s planning something even worse.” Obi-Wan finished, his words ringing ominously in the Force.

Qui-Gon nodded, “We have to stop him.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop his heart from leaping at the word ‘we,’ even as he rationalized that it was just for now. Qui-Gon obviously didn’t so much as need or want his help, as much as he wanted to keep Obi-Wan out of trouble. But that didn’t matter, Obi-Wan would take what he could get.

“Then we’d better hurry.”

They stole a landspeeder and headed towards the capital city, where Xanatos’ OffWorld Corporation was headquartered, but their actions hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Someone’s coming this way.” Obi-Wan could feel the danger reverberate in the Force.

“I feel it too,” Qui-Gon acknowledged, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Hang on.”

A speeder bike met them halfway, shooting laser blasts with reckless abandon. Xanatos had come to them.

Qui-Gon swung the landspeeder sharply, narrowly avoiding the blasts as they veered to a new direction entirely. They would be quite literal canon fodder if they challenged Xanatos now, but not far from their current location were mines run by OffWorld’s rival faction. 

There they would have a chance to reel Xanatos in and fight him together.

Qui-Gon spun the landspeeder to a stop, pulling Obi-Wan through his side of the speeder. With Xanatos close behind, they narrowly managed to escape into the mines with Qui-Gon leading the way. If they circled around and caught Xanatos from behind, they would be able to have the advantage, but mines such as this were Xanatos’ domain, not theirs.

His shadow loomed ahead as the Jedi turned the corner into another mine shaft.

“You make so many mistakes, Qui-Gon. It’s a wonder you’re still standing.” Xanatos’ smirk was visible even in the dim lighting of the mine. “You always were easy to manipulate.”

Obi-Wan shivered as Xanatos eyed him. Somehow every step they had taken, from Qui-Gon arrival on Bandomeer to retrieving the transmitter, and now their very path through the mines, Xanatos had orchestrated masterfully. The ex-Jedi’s cruelty knew no bounds. 

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan attacked despite Xanatos’ words, trying to stop him before he could do more evil. Obi-Wan managed to take him by surprise, singeing his lightsaber hand. Qui-Gon tried to follow through, but Xanatos already was in retreat running away through the dark maze.

Qui-Gon chased after him with Obi-Wan close behind despite the sense of danger emanating stronger and stronger. He would follow the Jedi Master as long as he could, even if it killed him.

They reached deep into the mine before they found Xanatos again where the ex-Jedi had chosen a large cavern to be their final battleground. Seated on yet another crate marked with a half circle, Xanatos grinned menacingly as they cautiously entered the arena. Behind them, a hidden panel slammed shut, closing off the only entrance.

The lights flickered eerily on Xanatos’ mad grin before going out completely, covering the room in complete darkness. 

“I hope the two of you have time for a Temple exercise,” Xanatos’ voice was mocking as a red beam of light suddenly broke through the darkness. “Ready or not, here I come.”

Abruptly, Xanatos dosed his saber, plunging the room into darkness once again. All Obi-Wan could hear was the sound of his own breathing. Then, with a crash, Qui-Gon’s green lightsaber flared to life, blocking Xanatos’ red lightsaber reactivating a split second later. Xanatos jumped away, but Qui-Gon followed through, and for a moment bright sparks filled the room before each saber flickered out.

Obi-Wan tried to keep track but was nearly blind by the flashes of light and darkness. Obi-Wan stumbled back as Qui-Gon’s saber activated once again, mere inches away from his face, blocking Xanatos strike.

“You can do this Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon shouted, pushing Xanatos away. “Think back to your practices in the temple.” 

It was true. Blindfolded practice duels were not unusual, but never with so much on the line. But Qui-Gon believed in him.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, focusing on the Force instead of the fickleness of eyesight.

He activated his lightsaber and felt the sting as Xanatos’ lightsaber met his.

“Ah, he has potential after all.” Xanatos sneered, “Too bad the only Master around is you, Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon moved in and surrounded Xanatos from the other side, ignoring his former Padawan’s words. Together they pushed Xanatos back, and Obi-Wan knew that together they would be able to defeat him.

As though sensing his turn in fortune, Xanatos jumped back to the rear wall, temporarily ending the duel as Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan cornered him. 

“I’m afraid I’ll have to end this lovely tryst early.” Behind Xanatos, another hidden panel opened to allow him to escape.

“No!” Qui-Gon shouted as he raced to stop Xanatos from escaping yet again.

“It’s a lift tube.” Obi-Wan reached the door just as Qui-Gon slashed at the panel with his lightsaber, the newly developed OffWorld transparisteel withstanding the blow easily. 

Xanatos grinned from behind the clear panel, his voice crackled through an unseen speaker. “Goodbye, my old Master. It doesn’t matter what you do now. The mine is set to blow, and sadly, I have just enough time to leave… you do not.”

Qui-Gon struck again as the turbo lift began to rise, taking Xanatos out of sight. 

Obi-Wan looked to Qui-Gon with only the light of their lightsabers. 

“He always has a backdoor,” Qui-Gon said quickly, running to the crate with the half-circle on it. “He would have put a fail-safe on it—” Qui-Gon cut open the box, revealing the ion bomb inside. If it exploded within the mine, it would ripple through to the core creating seismic waves that would decimate a quarter of the planet.

But Obi-Wan had seen dozens of these boxes since his arrival on the planet. With who knew how many others were lying in wait as well. By the time the cascade event was done, there would be nothing of Bandomeer left.

Qui-Gon stared at the bomb, horror growing in his eyes, “There’s nothing to disable, not even a receiver.”

Xanatos wanted them to know the cost of their failure, but it didn’t make sense. Xanatos had set the bomb to blow before they arrived which meant— 

“There must be another one nearby that will set off this one. He didn’t have much time before we arrived.”

Qui-Gon’s head jerked, “You’re right.” 

Together, they raced to check the panel that had blocked off their entrance, but it too was made of transparisteel, making it impossible to cut through. Qui-Gon attempted to open it with the Force, but it was of no use, the material resisted any attempt of Force manipulation.

“There’s a control panel!” Obi-Wan shouted.

Qui-Gon approached, but without the correct tool or a droid, they would never be able to disable the lock.

“There’s not much time.” Obi-Wan thought over their options quickly. If they didn’t disable the bomb, then all of Bandomeer would be destroyed and tens of thousands would die. “There’s only one option left. I can open the door.”

Only a massive blast would short-circuit the control panel and open the door.

Qui-Gon turned his attention from the panel and stared at Obi-Wan, “What do you mean?”

“I still have the transmitter.” Obi-Wan gingerly touched the collar still around his neck. “I can reactivate it. If I am next to the door when it explodes it will open, and you'll be able to escape and reach the bomb.” 

“You’ll die!” Qui-Gon said, horrified.

“I know.” Obi-Wan calmly pulled the transmitter from his pocket and put his back against the panel. “Stand back as far as you can.”

“No, Padawan. I won’t let you do this.” Qui-Gon didn’t listen to Obi-Wan, instead, grabbing onto him as though to pull him away.

“I can do it. I will.” Obi-Wan reactivated the collar, heart thumping in his chest.

“No.” Obi-Wan had never heard Qui-Gon’s voice so flat and strained. “I won’t allow it. I’ll neutralize the collar.”

“We can’t both get out alive, at least one of us should.” Obi-Wan tried to push Qui-Gon away, it wouldn’t do any good if Qui-Gon was caught in the ensuing explosion.

“Wait.” Qui-Gon pleaded.

“There’s no time—” Obi-Wan’s finger trembled on the button that would seal his fate. If Qui-Gon wouldn’t move away then he’d have to activate it anyway. The force of the blow would push him away whereas Obi-Wan couldn’t.

“Please, Obi-Wan, trust me.” Obi-Wan looked up, barely able to see Qui-Gon’s face in the dim light of the Master’s lightsaber. Time was of the essence, already they could be too late, but no one had ever asked for Obi-Wan’s trust, only expected it.

Obi-Wan’s finger slipped away from the button. Qui-Gon’s hand tightened on his shoulder in wordless thanks as seconds and then moments past.

Behind Obi-Wan something clicked, making the panel slam open. Obi-Wan would have stumbled back if not for Qui-Gon’s hand.

“There—” Qui-Gon said, voice soft. “Trust in the Force, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan nodded, knees weak with relief. He may have been willing to die, but he was happy to still be alive.

“Come on, the mechanism can’t be far.” Qui-Gon led the way back through the labyrinth of passages that Xanatos had lured them through. Without the Force, they would have never known to turn down a dead-end along the way, but within the Force, they could feel the danger radiating from where the bomb was located.

Xanatos had left nothing to chance, not trusting a receiver not to leave trace evidence, he had relied on a timer instead. With only three minutes to spare, Qui-Gon managed to carefully dismantle the weapon.

They both let out a sigh in relief when the bomb powered down.

“Obi-Wan?”

“What?” Obi-Wan said wearily from where he was crouched nearby.

“Come here,” Qui-Gon said flatly. Obi-Wan obeyed unquestionably even as Qui-Gon’s hands closed around his neck and with a mighty surge of the Force, the metal collar crumbled away. 

“Now, let’s see about Xanatos.” Qui-Gon’s momentary respite was tempered by the shadow that still loomed over them.

“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan said with a relieved smile of his own.

By the time they reached the surface, Xanatos was long gone, but his scheme to destroy Bandomeer was finished. With the help of the authorities, they were able to find and disable each of the boxes filled with Thermite. There would have been no evidence left to lead to Xanatos if his plan had succeeded.

“His own hubris was always his greatest failing,” Qui-Gon commented.

“I don’t understand why he would do all this, just to get revenge on you.”

“Xanatos never did anything for only one reason.” Qui-Gon sighed, walking alongside Obi-Wan, the wind ruffling through his hair.

Obi-Wan looked up at the Jedi Master questioningly.

Qui-Gon looked down at Obi-Wan with a hint of a grim smile, “I don’t believe Xanatos’ primary purpose here was to kill me, just a side benefit. No, I’m afraid, Padawan that it’s more likely all about money.”

Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks, Qui-Gon pausing and turning back to face him a moment later.

“You called me Padawan in the mine, too.” Obi-Wan started hesitantly, barely meeting Qui-Gon’s eyes that now seemed as warm as the Force that flowed between them.

“I did. I should have long before that,” Qui-Gon admitted, kneeling down so he could meet Obi-Wan eye to eye. “I allowed my fear of Xanatos blind me to our bond, and I’m sorry for it. I would have never been able to find you so quickly if we hadn’t been connected through the Force.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes brightened hopefully, “Do you mean that I can go with you?”

Qui-Gon nodded, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Someone needs to keep you out of trouble, my young Padawan.”  
  
And for the first time in months, Obi-Wan felt like his path forward was clear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direct quotes used from "An Uncertain Path" By Jude Watson in italics. Highly recommend reading the series if you have not already. :)

Everything was falling apart.

Obi-Wan’s legs burned as he sprinted through the ruined city of Zehava. Despite the peace the Youth had temporarily won, there just hadn’t been enough time to even attempt to clean up the rubble from generations of war. They still were struggling to organize clean water and enough food for the survivors, let alone provide electricity and heated shelters.

And now, Nield would destroy even the fragile peace they had fought so hard for, just to get his way.

If Obi-Wan had more experience, been better trained, then maybe he could have prevented the division that now split the Young and would no doubt lead to war. He had thought Nield was his friend. He, Cerasi, and Nield had felt unbreakable as they fought for peace despite all odds.

Now, it was broken.

The Young were going to destroy the Hall of Evidence, one of the few places the Elders agreed should be protected. Obi-Wan spotted the crowd of children marching up Glory Street. The only thing remaining between them and the wall of men and women protecting the entrance of the Hall was a courtyard with a dry fountain.

“ _Stop! I order you in the name of the government of Melida/Daan to disarm_!” Obi-Wan yelled as he dodged around children bearing vibroblades and blasters. As he ran, many of them recognized Obi-Wan. He had fought side by side with them, had been their companion and friend, then he had been the head of the security forces trying to maintain peace. Confused, but listening, they began to lower their weapons.

“ _You do not represent the Government!_ ” Nield shouted. Obi-Wan caught sight of his old friend at the head of the crowd.

“Don’t do this!” Obi-Wan’s plea fell on deaf ears, as Neild wasn’t listening anymore, facing the crowd of Elders. 

" _Move aside, Wehutti_ ," Nield said. "We won the war. Let us do our work."   
  
" _We will not allow the desecration of our ancestors by a band of brats_!" Wehutti, the leader of the Elders, stood prepared for battle with armored soldiers at his back.  
  
" _We will not allow murderers to be treated as the honored dead!_ " _Nield shouted back. He raised his blaster rifle. "Now move!_ "

The tension hung thick and heavy in the air. If even one shot was fired it would destroy the fragile peace they had fought so hard for, and countless more would die. 

Obi-Wan managed to maneuver to the front of the crowd of children just as the grate in the empty fountain was shoved to the side and Cersei appeared from below.

She must have heard what was happening at the same time as Obi-Wan and used the underground passages to make it here in time.

“This must stop now!” she shouted at all of Melida/Daan, Elders, and Young all an equal threat. She held her arms high, as though she could hold both forces back with her body and voice alone.

Obi-Wan sprinted towards her, even as he felt the Force echo with the first shot. He had to protect her. No one would listen to him anymore, not as a stranger to Melida/Daan, but Cerasi could still lead. She could still save everyone.

If Obi-Wan just could save her.

The bolt of light hit Cerasi’s chest a mere second before Obi-Wan grabbed hold of her. He held her as she collapsed, her once bright eyes wide with pain.

“No, no, no, Cerasi!” Obi-Wan’s hands trembled as he held her, searching for the wound.

“You can’t die!” Obi-Wan sobbed as he found the expansive wound at her core. She and Nield were everything to him, the three of them fighting for an impossible peace. 

Obi-Wan felt her go limp in his arms as shouts began between the Elders and the Young, both sides accusing the other of firing the first shot. If Obi-Wan had been a real Jedi he would have known what to do. He would have been able to heal Cerasi.

His heart skipped as he realized he still could. Yoda had healed him once, he could do the same for Cerasi. He could give her the Life Force to live.

“Please Cerasi,” Obi-Wan whispered into her hair as he blindly pushed Force energy into her abdomen. He could already feel that it wasn’t working. Why won’t it work?! Obi-Wan thought desperately as he pulled even deeper, desperately trying to give life energy. If he needed to give her his life he would, he would. He looked down into her eyes, watching them dim and slowly close. 

Obi-Wan pulled and tugged, tearing at his very core, but the glow within Cerasi was gone, and no matter how Obi-Wan tried to fill the void within her, it only leaked back out, the invisible stain spreading to drown him with his own failure 

Cerasi was dead.

Obi-Wan had failed her, failed all of Melida/Daan.

Obi-Wan held what was left of Cerasi, as blaster bolts shot back and forth between Elders and Young. Cries rang through the air until both sides began seeking shelter from the reign of fire.

Mawat, the leader of the scavenger Young, and two others ducked and weaved through the battlefield to where Obi-Wan was huddled with Cerasi’s body.

“We have to go, Obi-Wan!” Mawat pulled at Obi-Wan as he shoved his blaster into its holster.

“I can’t leave her!” Obi-Wan clutched at the cooling body of his friend. 

“Then we’ll bring her too!” The flashes of blaster fire were still all around them, forcing them back down the same grate Cerasi had come from. Obi-Wan tried to help, to carry Cerasi’s weight, but every movement felt like he was slogging through cold water. Still, they managed to get below, Mawat and his friends carrying Cerasi to the underground tombs that had sheltered them during the war. 

The war that had now returned to Melida/Daan.

Cerasi was laid on her bed, really just a nest of ragged material that she had used for blankets. Obi-Wan and Nield had once slept in this same nook, huddled together, planning for a brighter future than this hellscape.

Obi-Wan shuddered and fell to his knees beside the body while the others retreated, likely to return to Nield’s side.

Cerasi’s eyes were glassy green, open and unseeing. Obi-Wan gently closed them.

Qui-Gon had been right, Obi-Wan was just a child, he couldn’t help Cerasi or any of the others. Not by himself. If he had only been better— it was a stupid thought. Obi-Wan had barely become a Jedi before throwing it all away. If Cerasi had had a true Jedi by her side, she wouldn’t be dead right now.

Obi-Wan laid beside Cerasi one last time and allowed his tears and exhaustion to pull him into sleep.

When Obi-Wan woke, the tombs were once more crowded with shell-shocked children. The streets of Zehava were filled with skirmishes, with both sides taking the wounded back to their relative boltholes. 

Worse still, Cerasi had become a martyr, her murder being used as a catalyst for war that stood directly opposite of everything she done, of everything she had lived for.

Obi-Wan eventually found Nield, only to be blamed for Cerasi’s death and exiled from the Young.

He fled the tombs, aching to his very bones, above ground, the cold settling under his skin like it had always been a part of him. Every step of the way, he questioned his decision to leave the Jedi Order, and the Force had shown him the truth. Only a Jedi could have prevented the bloodshed that would soon cover Melida/Daan as though there had never been a moment of peace at all. Obi-Wan had failed his friends and their planet the moment he had walked away from the only person who could have actually made a difference.

Obi-Wan knew what he had to do, even if it was futile.

He knew the layout of the city by heart from the short time he had been the leader of the security forces, which also meant he knew what few resources were still available.

It took Obi-Wan much longer than it should have to reach the ruined south tower, which housed one of the only working interplanetary communication devices in the city. Despite the feeling of urgency pounding in his heart and up through his throat, he couldn’t run for more than a few minutes before exhaustion weighed him back down to a trot. The grief weighed heavier even still.

The tower looked abandoned when Obi-Wan arrived, but once he reached the second floor, a blaster was shoved into his face by a girl a few years his junior.

“Yadmar? Please, I need to use the communicator.”

Recognition flickered in Yadmar’s eyes, but indecision flattened her lips, “Obi-Wan? I heard… did Nield give you permission?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, not wanting to lie to the girl. Someone had to listen. “The fighting is going to start all over again if we don’t stop it. The Elders are rallying under Wehutt, and Nield has sworn revenge for Cerasi’s death. You have to see this isn’t what she would have wanted!”

Yadmar looked down in shame. She hadn’t been close to Cerasi, but everyone had known what peace meant to her. Still, Yadmar didn’t move aside, “Who are you even going to call? If you and Cerasi couldn’t stop it, then what chance does someone else have?”

Obi-Wan felt his sense of balance begin to go and had to prop his hand against the wall to keep himself steady. 

“I was once a Jedi.” Obi-Wan breathed out, the words salt on his wounds. “I am no longer, but I know what the Jedi can do. My Master, my teacher, was Qui-Gon Jinn. If anyone can help, it’s him.”

Obi-Wan believed his words with all his heart. He just didn’t know if his former Master would forgive him enough to even return to help. He hadn’t realized how deeply he had betrayed his Master until he had already shattered the fragile trust between them. 

Perhaps his faith was enough because Yadmar lowered her gun and moved aside. “I hope you’re right, but even if you’re not, I guess it can’t hurt.”

Doubt still darkened the young girl's eyes, but Obi-Wan took the opportunity given to him and quickly rushed to the communicator before freezing. He knew the communication codes to the Jedi Temple, but knowing what to say was another thing entirely.

Finally, he turned on the hologram recorder and began to speak softly— 

“Cerasi is dead.” Obi-Wan did his best to explain the conflict that had descended upon Melida/Daan once again. He couldn’t beg forgiveness, not when he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he asked for help all the same. Hoping that despite Obi-Wan being the one to ask Qui-Gon would still come to help the people of Melida/Daan.

“Please, you’re their only hope.”

Obi-Wan turned off the hologram before collapsing to his knees, pale as duracrete. Something was wrong with him, but he still had to send the message. Pushing himself onto his feet, he quickly entered commands for the old communicator to beam the message. It would take time to reach Coruscant, so the only thing he could do now was wait.

It took a full day and a half before the communications device received a transmission from Coruscant. Obi-Wan returned to the tower as soon as he heard, arms wrapped around himself, not only to retain heat but to contain his apprehension. He hadn’t been able to get warm since Cerasi’s death.

Maybe he would never be warm again.

Despite his fears, or maybe because of them, Obi-Wan hit the hologram activation button immediately.

Master Yoda appeared, “On his way, Master Jinn is. Three days will it take him. Take care of yourself until then, you will.”

Yoda went on to give coordinates where Qui-Gon Jinn would land. Obi-Wan’s stomach sank when he realized it was the same location he had seen Qui-Gon for the last time and renounced his vows to the Jedi. The fleeting happiness that had lifted Obi-Wan’s heart burned away like it had never been there, leaving him even colder than before. Working with Qui-Gon again would be a stark reminder of everything Obi-Wan had thrown away so foolishly, but that meant little if Qui-Gon could do what Obi-Wan could not and save Melida/Daan.

Obi-Wan thanked Yadmar and returned to the small hollow under a bombed-out bridge that he had stayed the night before. He didn’t have many supplies and wasn’t willing to steal from others to get them, but he had gone hungry before and at least still had his water purifier.

Despite the exhaustion that had overtaken him, Obi-Wan spent another sleepless night staring off into the night. Crippling cold had settled deep into his bones, into his heart, leaving Obi-Wan to shiver as his stomach tied itself in knots. Cerasi’s last minutes replaying in his troubled mind, broken only by the image of Qui-Gon’s disappointed face.

Luckily, Roenni discovered Obi-Wan’s bolthole the next morning, so Obi-Wan didn’t starve after all. A few of the Young still cared about Obi-Wan, even if they weren’t willing to stand up to Nield. 

He was even able to catch up with what was happening between the Young and Elders. The only positive that Obi-Wan could find was that both Nield and Wehutti were bunkered down. Until the leaders took center stage, the skirmishes between the Elders and the Young remained small and isolated and the Hall of Evidence remained undestroyed.

Finally, the day came for Qui-Gon’s arrival, and, with tail between his legs, Obi-Wan returned to the grassy meadow they had hidden their starfighter in so long before. He still felt cold and slow-moving. Memories of their last conversation making the journey even longer. 

“I will not make your betrayal easy for you. If you try to take this step, know what a hard one it is."

Obi-Wan had made his decision knowing full well that Qui-Gon didn’t give his trust easily, that once destroyed, he too would have betrayed his mentor, just like Xanatos before him.

"You must choose, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon told him quietly. "You can go with me now, or stay. Know that if you stay, you are no longer a Jedi.”

He had thought he had made the right decision, for the right reasons. That he would make the difference between the Young’s victory or defeat. But it was all fruitless. Cerasi and Nield had depended on him in a way no one had before and he had allowed pride and hubris to blind him and destroy his potential to be of any actual help.

Obi-Wan used his dirty sleeve to wipe the tears from his face. Qui-Gon would arrive soon, and unlike on Bandomeer, Obi-Wan would accept that Qui-Gon Jinn would never again take him as his apprentice.

The starfighter appeared like the birth of a star in the evening sky as it broke through the atmosphere and began its descent. Obi-Wan straightened and smiled tentatively when the ship landed and the tall form of Qui-Gon descended the ramp, but the solemnity on Qui-Gon’s face quickly wiped it away.

There would be no healing the wounds Obi-Wan had lashed upon his former Master. No apology would fix the distance between them.

Qui-Gon studied Obi-Wan for only a brief moment before nodding in greeting and beginning the walk to the city. The silence felt heavy between them, but Obi-Wan knew it was well deserved as he struggled to keep up.

They walked for a few minutes before Qui-Gon finally broke the silence, "I was very grieved to hear your news about Cerasi," he said quietly. "I am truly sorry for your loss, Obi-Wan." 

It felt like Obi-Wan’s throat had swelled, limiting even air from escaping. 

“Thank you,” He managed to choke out through sheer will. This couldn’t be about him, not now.

"There are many things to talk about," Qui-Gon continued. "But I think such things would be a distraction right now. Any problems we have with each other mean nothing in the face of a planet close to war. We should focus on the problems here." 

Obi-Wan nodded quickly, he couldn’t agree more. Somehow Qui-Gon’s words had made it easier to speak, and he briefed Qui-Gon about what had happened since he had last been on the planet.

Qui-Gon saw easily where to begin, where Obi-Wan had floundered. Together, they went to where Wehutti was known to be in seclusion. Obi-Wan struggled to keep pace with the tall Jedi’s stride, even more than he remembered from their time together. By the time they reached Wehutti’s hideout, Obi-Wan was drained and his entire body ached in protest. 

Despite Wehutti’s refusal to meet with all others, Qui-Gon surged ahead and easily broke through the lock and entered the darkened home. Obi-Wan warily followed, trusting Qui-Gon to block any blaster bolts unleashed upon them as trespassers. They checked the house until they found Wehutti, huddled in the darkness, alone.

When confronted, the truth of Wehutti’s grief spilled forth—Cerasi had been his daughter, the last of his family to die in the endless wars of Melida/Daan and now he didn’t know if it had been a child’s idiocy that had killed his daughter, or one of his own men.

As Wehutti spoke, Obi-Wan leaned against the wall to steady himself, catching Qui-Gon’s eyes a second before returning his gaze to the provisional leader of the Elders. Obi-Wan could only hope that Qui-Gon hadn’t taken his weakness as indifference. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but inwardly he swore that it wouldn’t stop him from helping Melida/Daan. Not now.

Qui-Gon tried to rally Wehutti to protect the peace that his daughter had died for, but the Elder’s grief and doubt were too heavy a burden to shake off. His fear that he might be responsible for his daughter’s death left him frozen. They left with little more than they came with, but Qui-Gon seemed undeterred. 

They walked more slowly on the way out, Qui-Gon seemingly thinking over what Wehutti had told them. 

Finally, the Jedi spoke, “From what you told me, both Wehutti and Nield find themselves in the shared position of fearing they are responsible for the death of one of the only people they loved. Wehutti is responding with apathy while Nield is being driven to anger. If we discover what really happened that day, we may be able to bring both back to the road of peace.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip. The chaos and confusion of that day repeated in his nightmares, but the events never made sense. 

Qui-Gon stopped and gently gripped Obi-Wan’s arm, giving him much needed support.

“I should have been able to save her.” The words spilled out of Obi-Wan’s mouth before he could stop them. Abashed by his lack of control he looked down. 

“No, Obi-wan.” Qui-Gon’s fierce denial was tempered as Obi-Wan felt his hand gently raising Obi-Wan’s chin so they could look eye to eye. “Cerasi’s death was not your fault.”

Obi-Wan’s head jerked away, “If I had known how to Force Heal then—“

“No.” This time, alarm leaked into Qui-Gon’s voice as he gripped Obi-Wan’s arms as if to restrain him.

“No, Obi-Wan.” He repeated, this time calmer. “To heal her would have cost you your life.”

Obi-Wan jutted out his chin and finally met Qui-Gon’s eyes willingly, “But then she would have been able to— “

“But then Melida/Daan would have still gone to war.” Qui-Gon continued levelly. “You told me yourself that Nield was already breaking apart the alliance of the Young even before Cerasi’s death.”

Obi-Wan tried to stay strong as a reminder of their failure was thrown back at him. “I tried to guide them. I was their comrade and friend and they—“

“And they didn’t listen.” Qui-Gon finished, kneeling in front of him, disregarding the dirt and rubble littering the road. “We can’t make people listen, Obi-Wan.”

“But if it had been you—”

“A dozen things go wrong in every negotiation. Setbacks can feel like the end of the world and cost far too much, but we keep going. _You_ kept going.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Obi-Wan confessed, his sight blurry with tears.

“You called for help. Sometimes, that’s the hardest step.” Qui-Gon enveloped Obi-Wan in his arms as the first sob wrenched from his throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He kept repeating the same thing over and over again into Qui-Gon’s shoulder, unable to stop. The exhaustion and cold pulled him down until consciousness fled him altogether.

Obi-Wan woke up in a bed softer than anything he had slept on in weeks. The Young had always had to make due. While they had been together, that was all they needed.

Obi-Wan cracked open his eyes. Light poured into the unfamiliar room and scattered over the hunched form of Qui-Gon, whose head was bowed and supported in his hands. 

Obi-Wan tried to sit up, his muscles protesting, but the sound of his shift alerted Qui-Gon, who immediately held out a hand to stop him. Despite the gentle hand putting almost no pressure on Obi-Wan’s chest, Obi-Wan fell back down easily.

“You tried to Force Heal Cerasi before she died.” Qui-Gon’s voice was soft and low. Obi-Wan’s chest inflated with a sharp intake of breath as he stared at his former Master. Was he going to be reprimanded for failing? Obi-Wan closed his eyes and wiped at the gunk that had settled there with the combination of tears and sleep. His arm felt like a lead pipe and Obi-Wan let it thump back down on the bed.

Qui-Gon took his hand in his own, making Obi-Wan flinch in surprise.

“Do you know how dangerous that was?” Why was Qui-Gon’s voice so gentle? Obi-Wan knew what he had done, knew that he had failed.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan jutted out his chin. As an initiate, he had been told stories of what the cost could be when healing another at your own expense, but it would have been worth it if he could have saved his friend.

Qui-Gon’s hand squeezed his own, and, for the first time since waking, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon’s face harden.

“Then you know that when you tried and failed to heal Cerasi you succeeded only in tearing away at your own life energy?”

Oh. Obi-Wan looked away, grasping the bed sheet that covered him.

That made sense. The cold hadn’t ever left him since Cerasi’s death. Even in the sun, he had felt like a sieve that could not retain whatever it took in. Obi-Wan let out a heavy breath, he had almost killed himself pointlessly.

But he wasn’t cold now.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered to Qui-Gon’s, “You…”

“I was able to close the wound you carelessly carved into yourself.” Qui-Gon answered reproachfully, “But you’ll still be weak until you can heal the rest.”

Obi-Wan’s chest felt heavy, humans weren’t supposed to Force Heal with the great cost it drew from their short life spans. “Are you—”

Qui-Gon sensed his worry despite Obi-Wan not being able to articulate it, and with a great sigh, he raised his other hand to softly feel Obi-Wan’s forehead for illness before brushing his hair back. “I’m only slightly worse for wear. If used sparingly, the ability to Force Heal costs no more than a few days that I can easily restore with meditation. You, on the other hand, attempted to tear your very essence out of your chest.”

A flush rose to Obi-Wan’s cheeks. “I thought I could save her.” His whispered words were more confession then defense.

Qui-Gon jolted Obi-Wan with a rough tap to his cheek, “Don’t lie to yourself, or to me, Obi-Wan. You knew that she was on the brink of death when you tried to sacrifice yourself. What you did was nothing more than self-destruction in the mere hope that it would work.”

The jolt hadn’t been hard enough to cause any more than a slight sting, but tears welled in Obi-Wan’s eyes all the same. “There was nothing I could do.”

“Not at that moment.” Qui-Gon agreed firmly.

Obi-Wan let out a shaky breath. He didn’t want Qui-Gon to see him like this, weak and stupid, and barely able to move.

Qui-Gon sighed and looked away, giving Obi-Wan a moment to pull himself together.

“If you had succeeded in your purpose, the cost of Cerasi’s death would have been much higher.” The man looked down at the floor.

“The Jedi are only mandated to go where we are asked. I, or any other Jedi, would not have returned here until full warfare had already broken out, and by then peace would have been much harder to attain.” Now he looked back at Obi-Wan.

“It is only by living, continuing on day by day, that we can bring balance to the Force and help those around us. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan nodded hastily, he had been foolish and almost cost not only himself his life but the future of Melida/Daan. He had pushed forward blindly forgetting that a Jedi must either do or do not.

But he wasn’t a Jedi.

Obi-Wan flinched at the thought and Qui-Gon looked at him worriedly in response but didn’t pry further.

“I’m sorry, Master Jinn.”

“Your regret is less important than ensuring you understand why you must not do such a thing again.”

Obi-Wan bit his lip as he looked at Qui-Gon Jinn and then away. He had blindly tried to give his life with the barest chance of it being worth it and that had been wrong. But if he knew how?

It was a dumb thought. Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, and would never be again.

“I understand Master Jinn.” Obi-Wan met the Jedi’s gaze, eyes clear of any deceit, and the tension that had filled Qui-Gon’s frame released.

“Good.” For the first time since meeting again, a slight smile appeared on Qui-Gon’s face.

It felt like a flame blossoming in Obi-Wan’s chest. He wished that he could have stayed by Qui-Gon’s side, could have been able to bring that smile to the surface more often.

“Now, it’s time to meditate.” Qui-Gon sat up straight in his chair and looked at Obi-Wan expectantly.

Obi-Wan blinked in confusion, he and Qui-Gon had meditated before, but it was one of the few things Obi-Wan hadn’t missed about being a Jedi.

Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes and poked Obi-Wan in the ribs making him jolt.

“How do you think the Force will be able to replenish you if you do not reach out to connect with it?”

Obi-Wan’s mouth formed a small O and he shuffled himself up into a sitting position with much effort. He hadn’t even tried to meditate, feeling unworthy of even comfort in the Force. “I thought… I’ve only learned how to heal small wounds in the temple, Master Jinn.” Obi-Wan said hesitantly.

“That is a good start, your life-force is both less complicated and more difficult to replenish, but I will show you how. We both have a good deal of work ahead of us, and I need you by my side if we are going to bring peace back to this city.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach churned as he was offered a temporary place at his former Master’s side. Even if it was only for the moment, Obi-Wan would bask in it while he could.

Obi-Wan nodded and listened to Qui-Gon’s voice as he guided them both into a Healing Trance, Qui-Gon’s skill creating a funnel of the Force that Obi-Wan could not have achieved on his own.

By the time sunset hit, Obi-Wan was still tired but was more than able to climb out of bed and accompany Qui-Gon as they set off around the city. Step by step, they went over the facts of what had happened the day Cerasi had died, until they discovered what had truly happened.

The Young had been betrayed by one of their own. But not Nield, who had only been used to re-instigate the war. Mawat, the leader of the scavengers, had believed the new leadership of the Young was weak and needed to be tempered by war and wanted to force the Elders to submit completely to their rule. When Cerasi had put herself in the way of the conflict, she had been killed for it, and he had used her death to usher in yet more violence. 

With the knowledge of who was truly responsible, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were able to gain both Nield’s and Wehutti’s commitment for peace. Once the negotiations for the new government of Melida/Daan began, Qui-Gon remained neutral which enabled him to approach both sides equally, something Obi-Wan had never managed. It took time, but Qui-Gon was able to help the Young and Elder generations reach an accord, and with a new constitution in place it was time for him to leave.

“I believe it’s time to move on,” Qui-Gon said quietly to Obi-Wan as they watched Nield interact with the new council of Melida/Daan, filled with both old and young.

“So soon?” Obi-Wan tried to keep his voice light, but worry leaked in. He had thought peace had been achieved on Melida/Daan before.

“You must trust in them to continue upon the path set before them,” Qui-Gon said with a smile.

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon sharply, he couldn’t get his hopes up. Qui-Gon must have meant ‘you’ in the broad sense. They hadn’t spoken of Obi-Wan leaving the Order since Qui-Gon had arrived, but Obi-Wan had accepted the consequences of his choice. No matter how he wished he could go back.

“I will miss you,” Obi-Wan confessed, folding his arms inward.

Qui-Gon stilled, before slowly asking, “You are determined to continue your path then?”

Obi-Wan looked up at him, “I see no other choice, Master Jinn.”

Qui-Gon studied him for a moment before looking forward, “I was wrong, you know.”

Obi-Wan startled, “What?”

The edge of Qui-Gon’s lips quirked up, “I do not admit my failings lightly, Obi-Wan.” He glanced down at him with an expression Obi-Wan couldn’t quite decipher. “I thought Melida/Daan was a lost cause, and that your fate would be bound to it. I was wrong about that, and I was wrong for leaving you to face it alone.”

Obi-Wan’s heart raced. He hadn’t ever blamed Qui-Gon for leaving him. As a Padawan, he had every right to leave the order whenever and wherever he so chose. If there had been more time, or the threat of Tahl’s life hadn’t been on the line, then maybe it would have been different, but none of that mattered now.

“I wish I had chosen differently as well,” Obi-Wan said softly.

Qui-Gon turned to fully face him, so they were mirror images of one another, arms folded and eyes solemn. “I believe you are still meant to be a Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan felt his lungs freeze. “You’ll take me back?”

A grimace flashed across Qui-Gon’s expression, “I’m not sure we are well suited, but that does not mean you do not have a future with the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan stared at his former Master silently. He had been cruel to Qui-Gon, and in some ways, Qui-Gon had been cruel to him in return, but Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine having another Master. It felt like a dark void in the Force, a void that extended over every future, except the one by Qui-Gon’s side.

Difficult to interpret the Force is.

“I— I believe I'm meant to be a Jedi as well. No, I mean, I know I am.” Obi-Wan stumbled over his own words. “I just— I thought it was too late.”

Qui-Gon tilted his head with a sad smile and tousled Obi-Wan’s overgrown hair with his hand. “The Force says it isn’t, which means all that’s left is to convince the council to listen for once in their lives.”


	3. Chapter 3

Obi-Wan always hated the medical wing. 

“Please, lay down right here, Obi-Wan.”

“I’m really okay.”

The Jedi Healer, Vokara Che, quirked an eyebrow. “I think I’ll be the judge of that. If half of what was in your briefing is true, then you’ll be lucky to leave here after a week.”

Obi-Wan looked at Qui-Gon in alarm, who looked unsettlingly stoic in return.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Master Qui-Gon helped me.”

Vokara paused, “Oh, is that so?” Her eyes narrowed in on Qui-Gon who raised his arms in defense.

“I simply gave him basic first aid.”

“Oh, I am sure.” The healer’s gloves snapped as she pulled them on. “Just to be clear, the first aid you are referring to was Force Healing for a level six bleed out?”

Qui-Gon grimaced, this time looking towards Obi-Wan for support that Obi-Wan innocently ignored. “Yes, that is correct.”

“And yet, despite both of you having been back at the temple for a full week, I, nor any of my colleagues, have seen either of you.”

“We have been rather busy,” Qui-Gon replied gruffly, grossly understating their return to the Jedi Temple. Unbeknownst to Obi-Wan, the Temple had been in an uproar while he had been gone, all of which led up to a murder attempt on Master Yoda’s life. The Council had barely had the time to deal with Obi-Wan’s request to return to the Jedi, when a sequence of events began to cascade into an attempt to destroy the Jedi Temple itself. Despite Obi-Wan’s own tentative future, he had stayed by Qui-Gon’s side, the only place he felt like he belonged. The only place he could help anyway, and it turned out to be the right thing to do when it was revealed to be yet another plot by Xanatos to get revenge on Qui-Gon.

“Yes, yes—I have heard.” The healer waved her hand with exasperation. “All the same, I’ll be looking at you after I’m done with him.”

Obi-Wan hid a smile just as the Healer turned towards him. “Now, I believe I told you to lay down?”

Obi-Wan thumped down onto the pillow behind him with a grimace. He hated the Medical Wing.

The Healer gently touched Obi-Wan’s forehead and was silent as she used the Force to reach out. It felt like a mild tingle all around him, before becoming a deeper rumble.

“I can feel where Master Qui-Gon has helped reinforce your Life Force, but you’ll need to come in every day for a few months while we repair what you managed to tear apart.” 

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he tried to sit up, only to be thwarted by the Healer’s hand on his head. “No! I mean, are you sure? Master Qui-Gon was helping me improve my Healing Trance.”

“Hmm, yes, that does explain some of the accelerated healing, but that doesn’t replace good old fashioned medical care.”

Obi-Wan felt like his stomach shrank two sizes. He still didn’t feel perfect, but he hadn’t thought it would be so serious. At this rate, he’d never be able to prove himself as a reliable Padawan. Qui-Gon may have decided to take him back after everything that had happened with Xanatos, but the Council had disagreed and put him on probation. If he were stuck in the Medical Wing, he may as well be sent away sooner rather than later.

“It’ll be alright,” Qui-Gon said as he took Obi-Wan’s hand in his own. The Master turned to Vokara, “Obi-Wan is getting better at the Healing Trance every day, I’m sure it can supplement what you do here in the Medical Wing,” Qui-Gon finished suggestively while staring at the Healer.

She glanced between the two of them with the hint of a smile at the edge of her mouth, “We will see. Truthfully, you look much better than I anticipated Obi-Wan.”

It felt like a little weight had been lifted off Obi-Wan’s chest. “So only a few weeks then?”

The Healer huffed a disbelieving laugh, “I wouldn’t push your luck.”

During the following months, Obi-Wan wisely focused his energy on getting better as fast as possible. It was difficult when mixed with catching up in his classes and trying to be the best Padawan he could be, but nightly meditation with Master Qui-Gon combined with his daily sessions in the medical wing made him a quick learner.

He had been a blind fool, tearing at his own Life Force, when Force Healing was something completely opposite. It felt like being given a gift.

After one of his last sessions, Obi-Wan waited for one of the more sympathetic Healers to be alone. He now was only coming in once a week, and only had a couple of sessions left. It felt like now or never.

“Healer Chi’le, after I’m better, will you teach me how to Force Heal like you do?” Obi-Wan asked.  
  
“It seems to me that it would be a dangerous skill for one who misused it so,” the Mon Calamari said kindly.

Obi-Wan bit his lip. All of the Healers in the Medical Wing knew what he had done to try and save his dying friend, so there was little he could say in his defense.

“But if you taught me, maybe I could use it like you do, to heal small wounds in emergencies.” 

The healer shook his head, “Bacta heals small wounds just as well as the Force. We most often use Force Healing in conjunction with other Healers so as not to cause great harm to ourselves. Even then, most Healers are long-lived Jedi who have a deep well of Life Force to draw upon. The Jedi would not last long if we all sacrificed ourselves at every turn.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose that makes sense,” Obi-Wan said, downcast. 

The Healer patted Obi-Wan’s leg. “Chin up young Kenobi, you are almost done with your sessions, and there are many other skills a Jedi can learn.”

Obi-Wan did his best to smile at the Healer as he got off the medical bed. He knew from experience that Force Healing was dangerous, and he had even promised Master Qui-Gon that he wouldn’t do it again, but he couldn’t help but feel like he would need to use it one day.

“Thank you for the advice, Healer Chi’le.”

“You are welcome. And congratulations on being off probation!”

Obi-Wan’s smile grew genuine. His evaluation had gone surprisingly well, and now he had the full privileges of a Jedi Padawan again. Like full access to the Temple’s library.

Obi-Wan’s thoughts stumbled and retreaded the thought. The Temple’s library that had datapads on every subject, including every skill known to the Jedi.

“Thank you again, Healer Chi’le! I’ll see you next week!” Obi-Wan bounded out of the Medical Wing with a jump in his step. He knew that the Healers and Master Qui-Gon were trying to protect him, but he also knew that this was something he had to learn if he could. And he wouldn’t use it unless he absolutely had to, so he wouldn’t even really be disobeying his Master.

**5 Years Later**

“Master, they’ve hit the rear thrusters and damaged primary fuel line!” Obi-Wan rushed to shut down the line, trying to stop the ship from exploding.

“What about the auxiliary acceleration compensator?” Qui-Gon asked tensely. The ship lurched as they weaved through a rain of laser blasts.

Obi-Wan steered one-handed as he checked the computer with the other. “We still have it, but it won’t be enough to land.” 

They couldn’t jump into hyperspace either, not with the leaking fuel lines, but they couldn’t stay in Yinchorri space any longer. A terrorist branch that called themselves the Yitheeth had decided that the best way to stop their planet from joining the Republic was to kill the Jedi Diplomats that had been sent to begin negotiations. They weren’t wrong.

Obi-Wan swerved the ship to avoid another hit, the jerk nearly displacing Qui-Gon from his seat.

“I’m sorry, Master,” Obi-Wan said distractedly as he tried his best not to get them killed.

“ It’s fine, Obi-Wan. You’re doing very well, all things considered. Take us into the atmosphere.”

Obi-Wan risked a horrified glance at his Master before doing as he was told anyway. “We’re going too fast. I’m not going to be able to slow us down enough, Master.”

“I know. Try to aim for foliage, we’ll need all the help we can get.” Obi-Wan clenched his teeth nervously. Even that wouldn’t be enough. Next to him, Qui-Gon bucked his seat restraints and sank into Meditation. He was going to try and slow them with the Force.

Stomach-churning, Obi-Wan began the plummet into the atmosphere, the Yitheeth following closely after them. Obi-Wan adjusted the ship’s controls to aim for a storm system. They had to lose the terrorists before making landfall, or they’d be dead before the planetary forces were even on their way. That was if they managed to survive landing at all. 

Qui-Gon remained peaceful through every jolt and shudder of their ship, the metal creaking around them, but Obi-Wan had to trust in Qui-Gon’s abilities, just as Qui-Gon trusted in his.

The electrical storm closed around their starship, the terrorist ship behind them disappeared from sight, though not from within the Force. They were still following or at least trying to. 

Obi-Wan pushed the ship’s steering to its limits as he veered towards the planet’s Northern hemisphere before shutting down the remaining power system. Given their current trajectory, they would crash somewhere on the mostly uninhabited North continent. 

Obi-Wan’s bigger concern was that, despite the atmosphere slowing their ship to terminal velocity, the speed of impact would still kill them if they hit without restraint.

The ship moaned ominously as Obi-Wan felt the Yitheeth split away from their current trajectory. He had successfully aimed the ship while masking their path. Hopefully, they would believe that the ship had lost power before crashing into the ocean. 

In a blinding flash, lightning cracked, punching into the ship’s exterior armor. Obi-Wan’s stomach jumped into his throat as they suddenly plummeted what felt like hundreds of feet before continuing their shuddering glide. They burst out of grey clouds into a blurry mess of green and water droplets. 

Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon’s effort to slow them, but they were still going faster than any surface vehicle Obi-Wan had ever been in, the ground growing closer every second.

Obi-Wan’s fingers clenched white on the controls as the trees became more and more detailed until he could see individual leaves.

He heard the ship scream before the world stopped.

The cabin shattered as Obi-Wan was pushed and pulled all at once. He knew logically that time was a continuous stream, that it hadn’t suddenly slowed down, that this moment would end, but between one heartbeat and the next, it felt like an eternity.

The cracking and crying of durasteel meeting its limit gradually faded, until, at last, Obi-Wan was tossed forward one last time as the ship ground to a lurching halt. He struggled to keep his breathing steady as he surveyed the damage. The viewport of the cockpit was completely shattered during the crash, and broken particles and branches now littered the floor. 

“We made it,” Obi-Wan said, a shell shocked smile plastered across his face.

There was no answer from Qui-Gon.

“Master?” Obi-Wan unbuckled himself and used his chair to steady himself on the uneven floor. Qui-Gon wasn’t moving, his head flopped away from Obi-Wan. The only sign of life in his Master was the shallow, even rise and fall of his breathing.

He couldn’t still be in Meditation, not after all that. Obi-Wan had to step partially on the control panel to get to Qui-Gon, grabbing onto his Master to both wake him and for support. 

“Master, you did it. Wake up.” Panic pumped through Obi-Wan’s heart. 

“Master!” No matter what Obi-Wan feared, he didn’t dare shake Qui-Gon, his classes and readings on first aid screaming in his head. He maneuvered to check his Master for injuries, but before he could even find solid footing, he saw the blood trailing down Qui-Gon’s face. 

Obi-Wan swore under his breath. Shrapnel from the crash had gouged a cut across Qui-Gon’s temple. He couldn’t tell how deep, but blood was beginning to drip down onto his Master’s robes. Obi-Wan’s first urge was to immediately wrap it, to stop the bleeding, but he stopped himself to check for neck injuries. 

The Force be thanked there wasn’t any that Obi-Wan could sense and so he pulled a strip from his tunic to wrap around Qui-Gon’s head until he could look at the wound closer. Throughout it all, Qui-Gon didn’t so much as moan. Obi-Wan reached out through their bond to check for further injury he could not see. All that greeted him was silence. 

Despite the worry shadowing Obi-Wan’s every thought, he knew that he had to get Qui-Gon off the ship sooner rather than later. Once that was done, he could come back for the medical kit. Getting out of the ship’s rear door would likely be impossible, but, luckily for them, the viewport was now a viable exit. 

Obi-Wan pushed out the remaining transparisteel and unbuckled Qui-Gon before levering him into a precarious hold. They swayed for a moment before Obi-Wan managed to find the balance between physical strength and calling upon the Force. Then, step by step, he pulled his Master from the wreck, until Obi-Wan slipped and they both fell the rest of the way to the forest floor, landing on a spiny bed of Yalpine needles.

Obi-Wan’s own hiss of discomfort barely registered as he scrambled to Qui-Gon to check for further injury. He murmured apologies under his breath when a warning rumbled in the Force. Disregarding Qui-Gon’s theoretical comfort, Obi-Wan anxiously dragged his Master along the ground as fast as he could.

He reached the edge of a steep embankment right before he was blinded by the flash of an explosion that pierced through the foliage. The ringing shockwave hit, sending them tumbling down the steep hill. Obi-Wan did his best to shield his Master through the fall, but lost hold of him when a crack of fire shot through him. He skidded to a stop finally, gasping in pain, but was relieved when he saw the white-hot cloud of a compromised power cell rising up into the sky.

He tried to calm his shaking breath as he looked for Qui-Gon, who had landed slightly farther down the hill than him.

They had made it out and they were relatively safe for the time being. A fluttering laugh gurgled out of Obi-Wan as he fully realized their situation. 

The ship had all of their supplies, the medical kit, and, most importantly, the ship’s communications computer. 

None of it mattered now. He needed to care for his Master.

Obi-Wan tried to move to Qui-Gon’s side, only to flinch as agony sliced through his left leg. Forcing himself to take stock of the damage, Obi-Wan looked down at his leg, only to realize just what the fall had cost him. His leg laid at an unnatural angle, bent too far to be anything but a break, and a bad one at that. The initial shock was wearing off, but Obi-Wan knew the pain would only get worse once the adrenaline faded out of his system. 

He looked to Qui-Gon. His Master hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound since the crash. Even so, Obi-Wan reached out through their bond. He couldn’t do this alone. 

Quiet.

He could feel Qui-Gon within the Force, but it was the silence of a mist-shrouded lake, there was no ripple of life on the surface.

Blinking away frustration, Obi-Wan tried to pull himself together. His eyes searched for any conceivable options. None of the fallen branches were strong enough to be of any help, so he’d have to go search the wreckage for something to set his leg with. He looked up, the ridge they had fallen down stretched up and up. Obi-Wan could barely see the topmost tree’s branches still burning from the explosion.

Obi-Wan looked back at his leg. He’d go into shock before making it up that hill and he couldn’t use a Healing Trance to help without first setting the bone.

Could he use the Force to set it?

Mentally, Obi-Wan believed he could stand to set the bone back in place with a splint, but using the Force to do so would be much more difficult, as every minuscule shift of bone given would require every ounce of Obi-Wan’s attention.

Obi-Wan understood his limits all too well, and no matter how desperate he was, setting his own leg was far past his abilities. 

Breathing deeply through his nose, Obi-Wan refocused on his Master. Qui-Gon’s mind was quiet, but his body was otherwise okay. He had to somehow wake him.

“Master?” Obi-Wan pushed at their bond as he spoke, trying to throw a rock into the still lake. 

He may as well have been shouting into an empty void.

Qui-Gon’s mind was far from the surface, and, for all Obi-Wan knew, fading away for good.

Obi-Wan’s fear pushed him through the pain as he shoved his arms against the ground and dragged his broken leg along behind him, gasping and sobbing as he went to his Master’s side.

“Master, I need you to wake up,” Obi-Wan choked out, faltering.

They had to get out of there, and Qui-Gon was the only way left.

Obi-Wan collapsed into the pile of dry leaves his Master had fallen into, gasping out each breath as he tried to ignore the waves of pain emanating from his leg. The makeshift bandage Obi-Wan had wrapped on Qui-Gon’s head was dirty with mud and blood, but he still managed to look peaceful.

Obi-Wan reached out, placing a shaky hand on his Master’s face, the scratchy bristle of Qui-Gon’s beard tickling his hand.

“I know I promised not to, Master.” For years Obi-Wan had kept his promise, despite countless temptations, countless hurts that Obi-Wan could have healed.

He didn’t want to break his word to Qui-Gon even now.

He reached out once more, this time searching for and finding his Master’s life force, burning low, but bright.

Qui-Gon wasn’t dying, but he wouldn’t wake. Whether it was a combination of the deep meditative state he had been in when he had been injured, or simply the severity of the head wound, Obi-Wan didn’t know, but Qui-Gon was as trapped as if a layer of ice had crystalized upon the lake of his mind.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and gave his life.

Back on Melida/Daan, he had torn and ripped in desperation. Force Healing, in truth, was much more complicated and far more delicate. He had never practiced what he learned in the Jedi Archives, but where knowledge fell short, his personal experience with the Healers filled in. Bit by bit, Obi-Wan emptied his cup, pouring his Life Force into Qui-Gon’s, until with a tired sigh Obi-Wan felt the wound close and saw Qui-Gon’s eyes flutter open.

“Obi-Wan?” His Master’s low voice lulled Obi-Wan’s eyes shut.

“Obi-Wan?!” Distantly Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon shake him, but even the pain from his leg was fading away. Shock must finally be setting in.

“Sorry, Master.” Obi-Wan managed to barely mutter before consciousness fled him.

Obi-Wan heard the noise of crunching leaves before he opened his eyes. Already he could tell that they were no longer on the steep slope, the ground wonderfully flat, if a bit rocky, underneath him. He cracked open an eye, only to shut it quickly as Qui-Gon began to turn his way.

“I know you’re awake, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan internally cringed as he opened his eyes and pushed himself up. He attempted to move to his knees, but froze when a flash of pain reminded him of his leg. Qui-Gon had managed to set it while he had been unconscious and had bound it with a bit of fabric and vine. 

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Qui-Gon’s voice was deceivingly calm as he stoked a fire.

Obi-Wan glanced around nervously. Qui-Gon had set up a rough camp for them not far from the shipwreck, still smoking in the distance. He must have dragged Obi-Wan back up the embankment.

“I did what I had to.” Obi-Wan tried to match his tone to Qui-Gon’s but failed as a quiver of uncertainty snuck in.

“You not only deliberately disobeyed me by learning a skill that you clearly do not have the judgment to use,” Obi-Wan made a noise of disagreement that Qui-Gon cut short with a look, facing Obi-Wan for the first time since he had woken. Obi-Wan looked away first, his shoulders slumped. “But you also used that skill to almost kill yourself to heal me.” The pain in Qui-Gon’s voice startled and horrified Obi-Wan.

“Master, I—”

“You promised me,” Qui-Gon added another log to the fire, his neutrality failing him.

“I didn’t think I'd ever use it,” Obi-Wan whispered.

“Then why did you go behind my back to learn it?” Qui-Gon said, his words like ice.

How could Obi-Wan explain the terror of losing someone else like he had lost Cerasi? The pernicious feeling that he someday would. 

“The Force guided me to study—”

“Bantha fodder!” Obi-Wan jumped at Qui-Gon’s snarl. His Master suddenly seemed to catch himself and visibly withdrew to calm down.

“If you felt that way, you should have spoken with me about it.”

“Would you have listened?” Obi-Wan protested, his chin raised in defiance.

Qui-Gon stared at him, his eyes strangely lit from the fire. “So you knew my answer, learned a dangerous skill without my knowledge, and then used me to hurt yourself, to almost kill yourself.”

Obi-Wan shifted uncomfortably, regretting it when his leg twinged in protest. “There was no other choice.”

“There is always another choice. You just didn’t see it.” 

The rebuke struck between Obi-Wan’s ribs. Had he ignored other possibilities?

“This is why you should have never learned such a skill. You always jump straight to destroying yourself.”

Obi-Wan struggled to keep his breaths slow and even, “I couldn’t get back up the hill with my leg and you could have been dying.”

“It doesn’t matter if I was! I would rather die than cost you your life, Obi-Wan!” The shout rang through the forest, silencing the quiet twitter of birds.

Obi-Wan stared at Qui-Gon, horrified. He had known there was a chance that it would cost him everything to save Qui-Gon, he had had no way of knowing how hurt Qui-Gon was, how close to the brink of death he was. But even with the small possibility, Obi-Wan had been willing to risk it. As a Padawan, he was meant to watch his Master’s back, protect him.

“I…I don’t understand, Master.” Obi-Wan clenched at the rotting leaves beneath his hands.

Qui-Gon knelt beside him, the silence tense between them.

“I’ve known since Bandomeer your greatest strength and weakness, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan glanced up with his head bowed, Qui-Gon’s expression somehow hurt more than his words.

“You give too much, you don’t know the edge of your limits, if you even have them.”

Obi-Wan felt the softest touch to the top of his head and down his cheek before Qui-Gon gently nudged his chin up.

“My greatest fear for you Obi-Wan is that your life will be drained dry before you even have the chance to live. That your heart will give all it has until your destiny is ruled by sadness and misery.”

Obi-Wan grabbed onto Qui-Gon's wrist, the only part of his Master he could reach easily. “You think too well of me, Master.” He wasn’t so altruistic, Qui-Gon surely must realize that. “I lied about the last packet of tea just a few days ago.” He tried to lighten the mood with the inane confession.

A disbelieving laugh broke out of Qui-Gon, but despite the joke, worry still creased the corners of his face. “I don’t begrudge you the last cup of tea, Obi-Wan.”

Qui-Gon’s thumb swiped away a speck of dirt from Obi-Wan cheek. “You must learn to set boundaries for yourself Obi-Wan. If they don’t come naturally, then at least trust me to help you learn them.”

“I do trust you, Master.” Obi-Wan protested.

Doubt strained at the edges of Qui-Gon’s eyes and Obi-Wan was forced to let go when Qui-Gon pulled away.

“Trust is not fickle, Obi-Wan. After Melida/Daan… I understand why you did not come to me.”

Obi-Wan wished he had the words to heal the distress he could hear in Qui-Gon’s voice, but anything he said would be false comfort. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had formed a fragile bond after Bandomeer, only to have it mutually ripped apart on Melida/Daan. It had taken months before they reached where they had been before, but it had been years since then. 

“I trust you now, Master.”

“Then promise me,” Qui-Gon grasped Obi-Wan’s hand in his own, “Promise me that no matter what may come, you won’t ever, ever, use the Force to save my life at the cost of your own.”

Obi-Wan flinched back but Qui-Gon held on tight, his eyes not leaving Obi-Wan’s.

“Master—“

“Please, Obi-Wan. Don’t ask me to live with your death on my conscience.”

How would Obi-Wan be able to live if his Master died when Obi-Wan could save him?

“I promise, Master.” Obi-Wan would do anything for his Master, even this.

Night fell, leaving them with only a few provisions that Qui-Gon had managed to scrape up from the surrounding wilderness. Obi-Wan had tried to give his share of berries and leaves back to Qui-Gon, but the man had ardently refused. Instead he watched attentively as Obi-Wan finished the meager meal before refueling the fire and settling down behind Obi-Wan.

“Lie down Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon ordered as he settled down himself.

Obi-Wan looked worriedly behind him, “Don’t you want to be close to the fire?”

“No.” Qui-Gon answered firmly, “I’m not the one with a broken leg, and the fire will keep the other side of you warm.”

Obi-Wan flushed, the feeling of uselessness heavy in his chest. He laid down next to Qui-Gon, who pulled him closer still so that their body heat could help keep them warm as the cool of night settled in.

Obi-Wan watched the flicker of the fire for a few minutes, reflecting upon the natural force that could both save and destroy so easily.

“Do you need help settling into a Healing Trance?” Qui-Gon’s voice rumbled through him so close behind.

“No, Master.” Obi-Wan quickly replied, chastened. He had become adept at Healing Trances over the years, but he wouldn’t even be able to attempt to heal his leg for a few days, instead having to focus on replenishing his near-empty Life Force reserves.

“Master—” Qui-Gon grunted at the beginning of the question, clearly wishing Obi-Wan to focus on his Meditation. Obi-Wan continued anyway, “The comlinks were destroyed with the ship… and I think I may have done too good of a job at the tricking radar systems…” And Obi-Wan was hardly in any shape to traverse the great wilderness of the North looking for civilization.

Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s huff shift the hair on the top of his head. “Trust in the Force, Obi-Wan.”

“But—”

“You did well obfuscating our flight path, but when the Yinchorri government finds no trace of our ship they have the time and resources to expand the search.” Qui-Gon paused before continuing, humor lacing his voice for the first time since the crash, “And you managed to create a rather sizable signal fire for them to find. We may have a rough night, maybe two, but I’m sure Healer Vokara will be happy to see you before the week’s end.”

Obi-Wan let out a doomed groan, that only felt worth it when Qui-Gon’s laugh rumbled through him.

“Focus on what you can do, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan sighed and did as he was told, closing his eyes and falling into Meditation.

But despite everything that had gone wrong and the consequences Obi-Wan would have to face, he couldn’t help but feel a seed of happiness sprout and grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The risks Obi-Wan took were calculated, but Force he was bad at math.


	4. Chapter 4

The first time Obi-Wan saw Anakin, the boy was out of breath and panicking.

Qui-Gon was in trouble. They needed to leave, now.

Obi-Wan directed the ship to take off, aiming towards where Qui-Gon was fighting a dark figure with a red lightsaber. The pilot left the boarding ramp down, just long enough for Qui-Gon to escape. Inwardly thanking the Force, Obi-Wan dashed to the arrival deck, Anakin close behind.

Qui-Gon was dirty with sweat and sand, clearly exhausted from his battle with the dark figure.

“Are you alright?” Anakin said from behind, as Obi-Wan knelt beside his Master, confirming with his eyes what the Force was already telling him. Qui-Gon was fine, if a bit battered.

“I think so,” Qui-Gon said, clearly relieved to be on board.

“What was it?” Obi-Wan asked. What could have met his Master head to head and come this dangerously close to wearing him out? Qui-Gon was one of the best fighters in the Jedi. He pressed especially hard at a fight’s beginning, aiming to take out opponents quickly, rather than “toying” with them, as he sometimes accused Obi-Wan of doing. It was ominous that whoever, or whatever, had faced Qui-Gon had been able to last through the full might of a Jedi Master.

“I’m not sure, but he was well trained in the Jedi Arts. My guess is he was after the Queen,” Qui-Gon answered, his exhaustion evident, even if his breathing was beginning to slow.

Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon shared a look of worry. For the Trade Federation to be associated with such a figure boded ill. If he found them once, no doubt, he would find them again.

“What are we going to do about it?” Anakin asked intensely, almost as though he was ready to go back down and fight himself.

“We should be patient,” Qui-Gon eye’s crinkled at the corners, and Obi-Wan had the unsettling feeling that Anakin reminded his Master of someone. “Anakin Skywalker, meet Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan gave his full attention to Anakin for the first time, reaching out to shake hands with a smile.

Anakin grinned, “Hi! You’re a Jedi too? Pleased to meet you.” Obi-Wan looked to Qui-Gon with shared amusement as he let go of Anakin’s hand. It was easy to sense the excitement and drive rolling off the boy in waves. Obi-Wan had sensed a similar ambition before in politicians and industrialists, but in the boy it was innocent and free of menace.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anakin. And yes, I am Qui-Gon’s Padawan.”

Anakin tilted his head, “What is that?”

“It means that I’m his teacher,” Qui-Gon said with a hint of a smile as he stood. “Let’s go introduce you to the pilot. If we hurry, we may even be able to see the ship go into hyperspace.”

“What?! Really?! Wizard!” The excitement coming off the boy almost created waves in the Force. Obi-Wan shot Qui-Gon a meaningful look. It was no wonder his Master had been insistent on bringing the boy, an untrained Force-Sensitive of this magnitude was lucky to not be a danger to themselves and others, or worse, be used for nefarious purposes.

With Anakin at the lead, they made their way to the cockpit where the pilot was finalizing preparations for the jump to hyperspace.

“Let’s hope that hyperdrive you won works, huh?” the pilot said jokingly, gesturing Anakin to a place where he could see, but wouldn’t be in the pilot’s way.

“It will.” Anakin huffed defensively.

“I’m sure it will,” Qui-Gon said reassuringly, placing his hands on Anakin’s shoulders in a way that felt uncannily like Obi-Wan had seen it before. Inwardly, he shook off the strange current of familiarity that the Force sometimes gave him.

With a grin, the pilot engaged hyperdrive, and with a twisting punch, they moved into the peculiar between of hyperspace.

“Wizard!” Anakin said, awed by the strange beauty of it all.

“It’ll take us a little over eighteen hours to get to Coruscant. You should rest.” Obi-Wan weathered Qui-Gon’s glance of indignation with a purposefully blank expression. His amusement must have shown through however, as Qui-Gon’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes, I think it’d be wise for us all. Is there a space for us?”

Anakin turned to follow their conversation, glancing back and forth between the Jedi with watchful eyes.

“I’m afraid we’re rather packed like puffer pigs at the moment. We’re in the aft storage compartment.”

“Ah, it seems we will have rough accommodations again, Padawan.” Qui-Gon moved past Obi-Wan with a companionable grasp of his shoulder.

“With the help of the refresher, we’ll at least have quarters free of sand, Master.” Obi-Wan smiled guilelessly, all too aware that both Qui-Gon and Anakin were utterly covered with the coarse particles.

Qui-Gon grumbled, but good-naturedly agreed that he and Anakin should prioritize cleaning up. However, in the Force, Anakin felt strangely discomforted by the comment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how to work the sonic shower. You’ll have to wait for water until Coruscant.” Qui-Gon said.

A conflicting mix of emotions flashed on Anakin’s face before settling on disbelieving excitement. “You shower in water?!”

Qui-Gon laughed and guided Anakin towards the refresher. “In the Jedi Temple, there are pools only meant for swimming.”

“What is swimming?”

Qui-Gon tried to explain and Anakin’s horror made even Obi-Wan chuckle as he followed after them, listening to his Master entertain the child with tales of the Temple.

“If you leave your clothes in the bin, I can program the cleaning processor to be done about the time you are finished.” Obi-Wan offered as they entered. The refresher on the ship was luxurious if compact. Meant for the use of the whole ship, it was equipped with private compartments in addition to the main area with sinks and processors.

“That would be very appreciated, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said, showing Anakin one of the sonic shower compartments.

Once the two entered the showers, Obi-Wan gathered the filthy clothing before gratefully depositing it in the cleaning processor. Anakin’s clothing was worn and ragged, but at least it would be clean in a few minutes.

Qui-Gon finished first, after all, there was nothing luxurious about sonic showers no matter how prettily dressed up they were.

“It’ll be good to get back to the Temple.” Qui-Gon sighed as he came out, a privacy towel tied securely around his waist as they waited for the processor to finish. A large bruise decorated the left side of his ribs, looking achingly like a well-landed kick.

“Missing the many luxuries of Coruscant, Master?” Obi-Wan said wryly, well aware that only the draw of a warm bath was what called Qui-Gon home. His Master had kept them away from the Temple for most of Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship for good reason.

“Certainly, if that’s how you would like to describe them, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said with amusement. “Perhaps we can even eat at the refectory instead of our rooms.”

Obi-Wan didn’t hold back a grimace, the refectory was well known to serve food contrary to human tastes.

The cleaning processor finished just before Anakin left the shower compartment, its soft ring still echoing when the boy stepped out, almost completely covered in his towel.

“You’re hurt!” Anakin said as he rushed to Qui-Gon’s side.

“It’s nothing, Anakin,” Qui-Gon said warmly, pulling their clothing out of the machine.

“Let me help!” Anakin unexpectedly reached forward, putting his hand over Qui-Gon’s bruise.

Qui-Gon froze, there was no way that Anakin could— Obi-Wan pulled Anakin back, knowing exactly what he was seeing, even if it made no sense.

“Stop, Anakin. You can’t do that!” Confusion fused with alarm in Obi-Wan’s voice. Anakin was completely untrained, he should have been completely unfamiliar with Jedi Arts.

“Obi-Wan, it’s alright,” Qui-Gon said, trying to defuse the situation. Obi-Wan looked back at his Master, trying to understand what in the Force he was thinking.

Anakin shrugged away from Obi-Wan’s hold, moving behind Qui-Gon, asking, “What? Why? He’s hurt. I can do it, I always used to help my mom.”

“That only makes it worse, you can’t heal people without consequences,” Obi-Wan tried to explain, inwardly horrified. How had the child survived using his Life Force so casually with no way of replenishing it? What kind of damage had he done to himself?

“It’s okay Anakin, that’s amazing that you could do that for your mother.” Qui-Gon turned midway, missing Obi-Wan’s look of disbelief, to the boy behind him, “Go ahead and get dressed. We’ll talk about it later.”

Anakin frowned, “What about you?”

Qui-Gon smiled with a shake of his head, “Just a bruise Anakin, I’ll go into a Healing Trance later.” He quickly gave Anakin his clothing and ushered him away.

“But what’s a Healing Trance?” Anakin whined.

“We’ll talk about it later. Go on.” Qui-Gon made sure Anakin had closed the door behind him before turning to Obi-Wan, exasperation creasing his brow.

“It’s dangerous,” Obi-Wan said with disconcertion, folding his arms as he unnecessarily explained his reaction. Why wasn’t Qui-Gon equally appalled?

“Yes, I know,” Qui-Gon gave Obi-Wan a pointed look, “Usually.”

What? “He’s human!” Obi-Wan protested, even if Anakin somehow knew how to Force Heal that didn’t make it any less dangerous. Why hadn’t Qui-Gon explained—

“Obi-Wan, it’s fine,” Qui-Gon repeated himself with a sigh, lightly touching Obi-Wan’s arm to soften his words. “He is a deep well in the Force.”

Obi-Wan flinched, hearing the other side to his Master’s explanation. The boy was human, would have a short life span accordingly, but somehow, none of the dozen excuses Obi-Wan had heard all his life applied to the child.

All that was left was Obi-Wan was not good enough, not strong enough. He couldn’t compare to this child Qui-Gon had found in the desert.

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon said with concern, squeezing Obi-Wan’s arm gently.

Catching his thoughts spiraling, Obi-Wan shook his head in an effort to gather himself. He knew better than to get caught up in his own insecurities. Qui-Gon was his Master and knew both his strengths and weaknesses. Obi-Wan might not be able to save lives from the brink of death, but he could defend them so it was never necessary in the first place.

“I don’t think it’s wise,” Obi-Wan said stubbornly, pushing away the rising tide of insecurity to the back of his mind.

Much to Obi-Wan’s relief, Qui-Gon nodded. “He is still untrained, no matter how strong he may be in the Force. We will need to take him to the Healers when we arrive at the Temple.”

The door of the sonic shower swished open with a fully clothed Anakin before Obi-Wan could reply. The boy looked at them curiously before zeroing in again on Qui-Gon’s bruised ribs.

“Obi-Wan, would you take Anakin to the Galley to get something to eat while I get dressed?” Qui-Gon requested, moving to gather his own garments.

“Of course, Master.” Obi-Wan nodded in acquiesces but noticed Anakin’s frown all the same. He didn’t mean to get off to such bad terms with the child. “Would you like to help me choose what to eat, Anakin?”

Anakin looked at Qui-Gon nervously who waved him on as he disappeared to change. “Uh, I guess? What are the options?”

Obi-Wan tried his best to be friendly. “It wouldn’t be a luxury starship if you could count them. Come on, I’ll show you.”

The boy reluctantly followed him to the Galley, where Obi-Wan opened the storage system to scroll through the options. He quickly showed Anakin how to swipe through the images before starting water to boil for tea.

“What is all this stuff?” Anakin said, bemused.

“Mostly gourmet Nabooine dishes,” Obi-Wan answered, glancing at Anakin’s current selection. “I wouldn’t recommend that one.”

“Why?” Anakin asked suspiciously. The dish looked appetizing with noodles covered in orange sauce.

“I believe it's a Gungan delicacy that’s started to become popular on Naboo. It’s made of dried sea worms. Jar-Jar would probably love it.”

Instead of the disgust Obi-Wan expected, Anakin looked more interested.

“Qui-Gon prefers vegetarian options actually,” Obi-Wan said quickly, not wishing to eat a repulsive meal, if at all possible. He quickly entered the filter into the machine over Anakin’s shoulder before retrieving a tea set.

“You mean with no meat?” Anakin asked with a scrunched up face. “Do all Jedi have to?”

“No, there are carnivorous Jedi, vegetarian Jedi, and omnivores, like us.”

Anakin stared at him blankly.

“I mean that it’s a personal choice. Qui-Gon is close to the Living Force and prefers to only eat living things when the situation calls for it.”

“Huh, okay.” Anakin continued to flip through the program.

Obi-Wan scooped tea into the pot before pouring the steaming water in, the burst of earthy aroma relaxing him with memories of quiet moments with Qui-Gon.

“I don’t know what any of these are.” Anakin groaned, pulling Obi-Wan from his reverie, “What about this one?”

Anakin had settled on Keren Garden Loaf. “Good choice, we can have this with a bit of cold cream.” Obi-Wan entered their order and let the computer system take care of the rest. He knew he shouldn’t spoil Anakin in an attempt to improve their relationship, but he figured that the boy had had a difficult enough life as it was to not do something kind.

“What’s cold cream?” Anakin asked, moving away from the console and following Obi-Wan to the table.

“A special treat for dessert,” Qui-Gon answered as he entered the galley, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Pretending not to notice, Obi-Wan poured three cups of tea.

“Ohh! Like Jawa candy?” Anakin said eagerly.

Qui-Gon laughed softly, “It’s sweet like it, I suppose.”

Anakin grinned widely and grabbed his tea, taking a sip before grimacing. “Ugh.”

With a laugh, Obi-Wan handed Anakin sweet cubes and bantha cream. “Only Qui-Gon drinks Kashyyyk tea plain.”

Anakin bit his lip, looking at Qui-Gon and then at the tea before giving in and adding both cubes and cream. Obi-Wan retrieved the food from the computer’s reheater and served Anakin and Qui-Gon before sitting down himself. Anakin didn’t start eating until Qui-Gon had taken the first bite.

“Hmm, good choice, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon complimented, enjoying the meal.

Obi-Wan smiled, but nodded to Anakin who perked up. “Actually, Anakin chose.”

“My compliments then. Thank you, Anakin.”

The boy grinned happily, tucking wholeheartedly into the meal. “It’s actually really good,” he said, talking with his mouth full.

With amusement, Obi-Wan caught Qui-Gon’s twinge in distaste, “I’m glad you like it Anakin.”

After they finished the meal and, much to Anakin’s delight, the cold cream, Obi-Wan gathered the remnants and deposited them in the recycler.

Qui-Gon stood, wincing as he did so. “I think I may retire early, Padawan.”

Anakin scampered to his side, “Are you going to do that Healing Trance thing?”

“Yes, actually,” Qui-Gon said as he patted Anakin’s shoulder with a smile.

“Can I watch?” Anakin asked eagerly.

Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, “If you’d like, but it will be fairly boring. I’ll just look like I’m sleeping.”

“Oh,” Anakin said disappointed, looking over at Obi-Wan before looking back at Qui-Gon.

“We can go with Qui-Gon to see where we’ll be sleeping and then maybe I can give you a tour of the ship,” Obi-Wan offered.

It seemed Anakin’s interest in the ship conflicted with his desire to stay with Qui-Gon before winning out. “Yeah, okay that sounds good.”

They headed to the aft storage where Obi-Wan had been sleeping while Qui-Gon had been away. He had done his best to create makeshift beds with the storage crates, but it was still hard sleep accommodations.

Qui-Gon took it all in stride, well used to doing without.

“I don’t suppose there are any remaining blankets you could scrounge up?” he said with a look at Anakin.

Obi-Wan shook his head slightly, “They’ve all been claimed.” The two of them could usually make do with just their cloaks when pressed, but they’d have to figure out something else for Anakin. Perhaps the poncho that Qui-Gon had appropriated for his disguise on Tatooine.

“Hmm,” Qui-Gon retrieved his cloak and set it to the side, “You can use this later, Anakin.”

The boy looked at the cloak then back to Qui-Gon who was sitting down. “Why can’t I just heal you so you don’t have to do this Healing Trance thing?”

Obi-Wan tensed, wanting no more than to leave the topic behind.

Qui-Gon offered his hand to Anakin who took it, “When you heal someone, you are doing what we call Force Healing. For most Jedi, it’s very dangerous.”

Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan, “Why though?”

“Every living soul has a Life Force. Some are much deeper than others. When you healed your mother, you used your Life Force to do so,” Qui-Gon explained softly.

“So…”

“So, many Jedi can use too much and deplete their Life Force,” Qui-Gon continued. Obi-Wan looked away when Qui-Gon’s eyes met his own. “You can’t live without it.”

“Oh,” Anakin sounded worried despite Obi-Wan being unable to see his face. “But I’ve healed my mom a bunch of times. As soon as I realized I could.”

“I believe you,” Qui-Gon said warmly, “And by virtue of that fact, I believe you are different. I think that you might be instinctively using the Force to refill your Life Force, even as you funnel it into someone else.”

“Then why won’t you let me heal you too?” Anakin asked with frustration.

“I can heal myself, and I want to make sure that you are really okay before you use your gift freely.”

“Oh, okay, I guess.”

Qui-Gon smiled and laid back. “We’ll talk more in a few hours.”

“Goodnight, Master,” Obi-Wan said pointedly. Qui-Gon would need more than a few hours to recover from both injury and exhaustion, and there was no reason for him to lose sleep on their return journey.

Qui-Gon shot him a knowing look, “Goodnight, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan fondly watched as Qui-Gon fell into meditation and then deeper into a Healing Trance.

“...Is he really doing anything?” Anakin asked quietly.

Obi-Wan nodded, “Can you feel it in the Force?”

Anakin stared hard, “Um, I don’t know? Maybe? It’s weird.”

Well, that was one way of describing it. “Come on, I’ll show you the other parts of the ship that you’re allowed.”

Obi-Wan showed Anakin the communications room and then the engine room since Qui-Gon had expounded on the boy’s technical abilities during their brief com sessions.

“Oh, Wizard! You installed this?” Anakin asked, inspecting the warp drive.

“Yes, the old one was badly damaged. We appreciate your help getting a new one,” Obi-Wan answered.

“Yeah, the pod race was pretty awesome.” Anakin was careful not to touch the working component of the ship, but clearly fascinated by seeing it in action.

“So, um, what is it like being a Padawan?” Anakin asked, his voice hesitant.

Startled by the non sequitur, Obi-Wan studied Anakin more closely. “It’s hard work, but worth it.”

“So you like it?” Anakin asked, suspicion leaking into this voice.

Obi-Wan stared at the child. “Yes, Qui-Gon is a good man.”

“A good Master you mean.”

What? It only took Obi-Wan a brief second to come to a horrifying realization. Anakin had been a slave on Tatooine, of course, he would misunderstand.

“He isn’t that kind of Master,” Obi-Wan said more forcefully than intended.

Anakin stared at him doubtfully, abandoning his inspection of the warp drive. “You sure serve him like one.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach clenched, on the surface, a Padawan’s duties could be construed as servitude, something celebrated in the Jedi, but easily misunderstood by outsiders. “I try and help Qui-Gon where I can because he does so much for me. He’s my teacher, not my owner.”

“What’s the difference?” Anakin argued, his eyes showing the fear that had to have been building in the boy’s heart.

“A Padawan can say no. A Padawan is free to leave at any time,” Obi-Wan answered tightly, remembering all too well the times that he had.

Anakin stared at him with confusion. Obi-Wan didn’t know what to do, this was something Qui-Gon should talk to the boy about, Obi-Wan’s relationship with him was tenuous at best.

“I call him Master because it is his title within the Jedi,” Obi-Wan hesitantly explained, “Because he’s a Master in the Force and has experience that I do not. There are words with multiple meanings in Huttese too right? Like Yaku?”

Anakin nodded, his arms wrapped around himself, his eyes cast down.

Obi-Wan swallowed, “I call him my Master because he’s my teacher, no one else’s. He calls me Padawan, which means student, but also one following the journey to become one with the Force. To become a Master in following the will of the Force.”

“Okay, I get it.” Anakin huffed as he turned away, the emotion in his voice betraying the highs and lows he had just been through.

“Anakin.” Obi-wan started to follow the boy out of the room.

“It’s fine. Just… leave me alone.” Anakin looked back at Obi-Wan, daring him to say no.

“Okay,” Obi-Wan said placatingly. If Anakin wanted to wander around on his own for a bit, that was fine. He wouldn’t be able to go anywhere he wasn’t allowed anyway.

“I’ll be in the aft storage room with Qui-Gon if you need me.” He told Anakin as the boy walked away, ignoring him. Obi-Wan stared after him for a moment before turning to walk the other way. He’d need to tell Qui-Gon when he woke up. Feeling sick to his stomach with the day's turmoil, Obi-Wan returned to their makeshift accommodations and knelt by Qui-Gon’s side.

“For as good at negotiating you say I am, I am utterly terrible with people sometimes,” Obi-Wan confessed to his oblivious Master.

Obi-Wan settled into his own meditation, unsettled thoughts gradually calming by the soothing flow of the Force.

Obi-Wan didn’t realize he had fallen asleep until Qui-Gon woke him by brushing his fingers through his hair.

“Master?”

Qui-Gon smiled wryly down at him, “I know that the storage crates can’t be much more comfortable than the floor, but you look particularly disarrayed.”

Obi-Wan groaned and pulled himself up from the floor, looking around for a missing Anakin. With a grimace, he explained what had happened while Qui-Gon had been in his Trance.

“Ah,” Qui-Gon said understandingly, rubbing his chin, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel like he had failed in the most simple terms. “Well, we have better find him. Why don’t you check with the Queen’s attendants to see if they need anything?”

Obi-Wan nodded quickly and left Qui-Gon to deal with his new pet project. Anakin was clearly too much for Obi-Wan to handle.

The rest of the trip went quickly, Qui-Gon’s presence a welcome buffer between Anakin and Obi-Wan. The boy was back to his hyperactive self, excited to go to the city-planet of Coruscant.

When they arrived, Qui-Gon needed to take the lead, so Obi-Wan kept Anakin back while the Queen and attendants met the Chancellor and Senator from Naboo.

It was afternoon on Coruscant by the time they arrived at the Temple and put Anakin in the hands of the Healer Vokara Che to remove his slave chip and check his health. Thankfully, Anakin was quick to make friends, so Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon were free to report to the Council.

Obi-Wan tried to be mindful as Qui-Gon summarized their mission, but couldn’t help but look forward to a moment of quiet, hoping that they could maybe even visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Then Qui-Gon revealed that he believed the Dark Sider was a Sith.

Obi-Wan’s heart increased a fraction of a beat, the word ringing true in the Force, despite the Council’s doubt. His Master had been in much more danger than Obi-Wan had realized if it had indeed been the Sith. Obi-Wan wanted to talk to Qui-Gon about it, and walked away a moment too soon when Master Windu dismissed them.

So Obi-Wan, like the Jedi Council, could only look on as Qui-Gon declared that he believed he had found the One who would bring balance to the Force. Obi-Wan found himself wishing that his Master wouldn’t keep his thoughts to himself so often.

The facts did add up frighteningly fast. The boy’s Midichlorians that Obi-Wan himself had checked. The lack of a known father attested by the mother herself. The strange, and unaccounted for, ability to Force Heal at seemingly no cost to himself.

Qui-Gon didn’t wish for Anakin to be just trained by the Jedi, but to join the Jedi. The Council would never allow it.

Despite the Council’s dismay, they agreed to test Anakin, most likely only out of respect for Qui-Gon.

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon out of the room, worried for the disappointment that was surely waiting for Qui-Gon. Still, he remained silent as they walked back to the Medical Wing.

Once they entered an empty corridor Qui-Gon spoke, “I can feel your unease in the Force, what is it Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan folded his robes around himself as they walked. “It was right to free the boy, Master. I know you wished you could have freed his Mother as well, but surely he is too old to join the Jedi?”

“You would leave him untrained?”

“No, of course not, but surely the auxiliary corps would—”

“Then you would send him to the AgriCorps like you once were?” Stung, Obi-Wan slowed his step, Qui-Gon pausing to allow him to catch up.

Qui-Gon softened his words, “The auxiliary corps would never be enough for Anakin. He needs to be trained as a Padawan.”

“Because he’s in the prophecy?” Obi-Wan said critically, well aware of Qui-Gon’s own doubts in foresight.

“Even if it’s not the case, he shines too bright Obi-Wan.” This much was true, it was a miracle Anakin had gone unnoticed for so long. “He needs to learn control.”

Ahead, another Jedi entered the corridor and the two turned to walk onto one of the Temple’s sky balconies.

“He won’t pass the Council’s tests, Master.” If Qui-Gon wouldn’t listen to him, he surely had to know that no matter how the Council respected him, they wouldn’t make this exception.

“Anakin will become a Jedi, I promise you,” Qui-Gon disagreed, his words worryingly certain, leaving only one option left if the Council said no.

“Don’t defy the Council, Master, not again.” Despite trusting his Master to guide him, his Master didn’t do likewise with the Council. Having to defend his decisions that veered far from the Council’s wishes far too often.

“I shall do what I must, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon answered solemnly, meeting Obi-Wan’s eyes before turning to watch the sunset on Coruscant. It was no little comfort that Obi-Wan wholeheartedly believed his Master.

“If you could just follow the code, you would be on the Council. They will not go along with you this time.” Obi-Wan felt the truth of his words in the Force, even as he felt an ominous foreboding.

“You still have much to learn, my young apprentice.” Qui-Gon draped an arm around Obi-Wan pulling him close. Obi-Wan sighed and leaned into him; at least whatever happened they would face it together. Maybe one day Obi-Wan would understand how to follow the Force even when it contradicted all logic.

They could only spend a moment on the balcony in quiet rumination before they needed to collect Anakin. He would see the Council that night.

The attending Healer met them with a list of concerns, but Qui-Gon had been right— Anakin’s life Force was robust and balanced. Whatever the child had been instinctively doing had caused little to no initial harm and left no lasting signs.

Obi-Wan had to take care not to allow a shadow of jealousy to grow. It was difficult not to wish he could have done the same. A foolish wish however—Anakin’s life up to now was nothing to be jealous of.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan collected a fully immunized Anakin with a litany of care instructions going forward. Tatooine was not kind to humans, let alone slaves, and likely only his Force abilities saved Anakin from the worst of it.

Anakin, for his part, was a ball of nerves, both excited and worried about being tested by the Council. Qui-Gon reassured him that he only needed to be himself, but Anakin’s emotions continued to swing.  
Obi-Wan inwardly had his doubts. Anakin undoubtedly did shine bright in the Force, but it was the completely untamed light of an initiate, not the disciplined glow of a potential Padawan.

They left Anakin alone with the Council, their presence not allowed as the caretakers for the boy. Finally, Anakin returned, his presence much more muted and sad than when he had entered.

“I don’t know if I did well, Master Qui-Gon,” Anakin confessed.

“That’s alright. Everything will work out. Would you like some dinner while we wait? The council is known for talking one’s ear off.”

Obi-Wan shot a disbelieving look at Qui-Gon, it seemed cruel to get the child’s hopes up only for them to be dashed. It also was in bad taste to talk badly of the Council in front of initiates, which Obi-Wan supposed the boy was now.

Dinner was solemn between Anakin’s worry and Obi-Wan’s increasing disquiet. Qui-Gon seemed determined to make the Temple as enticing as possible by detouring through a few of the gardens on the way back to the Council Chamber.

It was unsettling for Obi-Wan to reach for the Force for a sense of calm only to feel the dark sense of wrongness grow deeper.

And then it happened.

The Council, just as Obi-Wan had said, denied Anakin’s entry as a potential Padawan.

And, just as Obi-Wan knew he would, Qui-Gon defied the Council.

Only Obi-Wan never expected Qui-Gon to try and take Anakin as his own Padawan, his hands resting on Anakin’s shoulders, his back to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon’s eyes never strayed to Obi-Wan until Obi-Wan finally found his voice, trying to offer support to his Master despite the thumping in his chest.

He was lying though, he wasn’t ready, Qui-Gon had even told him so earlier that night. The Council would know as well.

“Obi-Wan is headstrong, and has much to learn of the Living Force, but he is capable. There is little more that he can learn from me.”

If only that were true. Obi-Wan struggled to settle his feelings as the Council dismissed the decision of Anakin’s fate for another day and refocused on their previous mission. The Queen wished to return to Naboo to support her people, giving them a chance to discover if the Sith had truly returned after all this time.

Because of Anakin’s tenuous fate with the Jedi, he would come with them. They would most likely be walking into a diplomatic trap. the nature of which would limit the danger that both the boy and Queen would be in since the Trade Federation would need to maintain their current stance of supposed innocence in the Senate.

Obi-Wan barely spoke as they left the Council Chamber, only to acknowledge Qui-Gon’s request to coordinate with the Queen’s attendants their departure. He was eager to get away, too unbalanced and heart-heavy to speak sensibly to his Master.

They left that same night with a few supplies to make their departure more comfortable than their arrival. Qui-Gon left Anakin to wait for the Queen and Handmaiden’s arrival while they checked the ship’s readiness.

Finally, Obi-Wan broke his silence. “Master, I think that the Council is right— there is something ominous in the Force about him.” This wasn’t coming from a place of selfishness, Obi-Wan reassured himself. He had felt something truly wrong in the Council Chamber, surely Qui-Gon must have too.

Qui-Gon stilled what he was doing for a brief second, “The Council is not all-knowing Obi-Wan. You shouldn’t rely so heavily on what they say, you must rely on your connection with the Force.”

“I thought I was ready to be a Knight.” The bitter words slipped away before Obi-Wan could take them back.

“A Knight is not a Master.” Qui-Gon rebuked as he turned and walked away. Leaving Obi-Wan to follow after him, his eyes downcast. This wasn’t what he wanted to talk to Qui-Gon about, the wound still too fresh and raw to bring to bear.

He swallowed and tried again, “Even if my opinion has no value, there are many Masters on the Council. Why does what they feel in the Force matter so little compared to you?”

Qui-Gon stopped, eyes flashing in frustration as Obi-Wan caught up, but still, Obi-Wan faced his Master’s ire head-on. They had fought before as Obi-Wan learned how to be more independent as a Senior Padawan. It had never felt like this.

“You think Jedi who sit in a Tower are able to understand the nuances of the Force on the ground?”

“We were all in that Tower, Master! The boy is not meant to be a Jedi.” Not meant to replace Obi-Wan at Qui-Gon’s side. Not yet.

“It is not for you to decide,” Qui-Gon said calmly.

“But it is for you?” Obi-Wan shot back, not ready to let Qui-Gon walk away.

“You are still my Padawan, take care to watch your words,” Qui-Gon said trying to end the conversation as they left the ship.

Obi-Wan was walking on thin ice, his Master’s patience dwindling.

“It’s not disrespect, Master. It’s the truth.” Obi-Wan needed to make Qui-Gon understand—needed to hold back the darkness that threatened to flood over them.

“From your point of view.” Qui-Gon disregarded Obi-Wan’s words with the wave of a hand.

“The boy is dangerous. They all sense it. Why can’t you?” Obi-Wan pushed one last time, hoping that he would somehow convince Qui-Gon not to go through with it.

Qui-Gon had had enough, turning sharply to Obi-Wan, “His fate is uncertain, he’s not dangerous. The council will decide Anakin’s future. That should be enough for you. Now get on board.”

Obi-Wan felt the rebuke cut through him. He did trust the Council, but that wasn’t why he was so against it. The ominous warning in the Force was only getting stronger. Whatever was coming would tear them apart.

As Obi-Wan turned away in retreat, he saw Anakin standing only a few feet away from where Obi-Wan had just disparaged him. Horrified, Obi-Wan quickened his pace and reboarded the ship. He should have noticed Anakin’s presence, should have ceased the second they left the ship. No wonder Qui-Gon had cut him off as he had.

Heartsore, Obi-Wan occupied himself in the cockpit, helping the pilot where he could.

He was going to lose his Master. Not only as his teacher but as a friend.

The thought gave clarity to the fear that was filling Obi-Wan’s chest. The boy might have triggered this chain of events, but Obi-Wan’s own insecurities would be what destroyed his relationship with Qui-Gon. Feeling sick, Obi-Wan managed to avoid his Master for most of the trip, but stumbled into Anakin alone in the Galley a few hours away from Naboo.

Like a coward, Obi-Wan almost backed away, but he knew what he needed to do.

“Hello there.”

“Hi,” Anakin echoed, looking up from the food console warily.

“Are you choosing something to eat?” Obi-Wan asked, trying to break the ice.

“Yeah, for Qui-Gon and me,” Anakin answered, his chin up defiantly.

Obi-Wan’s throat felt dry as he sat down, giving Anakin plenty of space. “I’m sorry about what I said to him earlier. I… know that you heard the last part of our conversation.”

“Is that why you are sorry?” Anakin said accusingly.

“No, but it makes what I said worse,” Obi-Wan answered quietly. “I thought I was trying to get him to see that he was making a mistake. Instead, I was just being selfish and cruel.” Obi-Wan met Anakin’s eyes on the last word.

The silence laid heavy between them until a moment later Obi-Wan tried to explain, “I don’t think you are dangerous. Not really. I try to listen to the Force, but it's so easy to misunderstand. I felt so afraid and I thought it was because of you, but I don’t think it was.”

“It's ‘cause you don’t want to lose him,” Anakin said softly.

Obi-Wan swallowed, trying to moisten his throat. “Yes, exactly. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I really am sorry.”

Anakin got up and sat next to him. Putting his head on the table with only his hands to buffer the coldness of the metal. “I didn’t want to leave my mom either.”

To Obi-Wan’s dismay, his eyes began to well up, his empathy for the boy churning with his own shame. “I’m sorry you had to.”

Anakin sat up sharply, “It’s okay though, because one day, once I’m trained, I’m going to go back and free her.”

Anakin’s hopes and dreams rested upon becoming a Jedi, Obi-Wan had just been one more person in his way.

“Once Qui-Gon is decided upon something, it’s bound to happen,” Obi-Wan responded with a sad smile. “And once our mission to Naboo is settled, I’ll try and help you free your mother.”

Anakin whipped around wide-eyed, “What? Really?”

Obi-Wan nodded, not fully prepared for the full brunt of Anakin’s attention. “No one should be enslaved—I’m sure Qui-Gon has plans already, but it might take time to return to Tatooine. Once the mission is over, I can contact my blood relatives who live in Anchorhead, if we send them some money they can help free your mother.”

Anakin was barely breathing, “You mean it? You’ll help me? Will I be able to see her?”

Obi-Wan realized he was overstepping his bounds. He held his hands out placatingly, “We can help free her, but as a Jedi, we don’t see our blood relatives very often.”

“Blood relatives… you mean family?”

“The Jedi are our family,” Obi-Wan tried to explain. This was why it was so rare for the Jedi to accept older children. The bonds of duty and love were already rooted by Anakin’s age, likely only stronger because of the hell he was raised in.

Anakin stared at him almost pityingly. “You don’t know who your mom was?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “I do, but she died when I was young.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Anakin said quietly.

“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan said truthfully, “Many of my teachers were like parents, and many of my fellow students like brothers and sisters in the Force.”

Anakin looked at him doubtfully.

Obi-Wan smiled sadly, “It’s different, but not bad.” It had been hard, but Obi-Wan had many moments he treasured within his heart all the same.

“Hmm, I guess it's not that bad then,” Anakin conceded just as his stomach growled, making him blush. “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan half-heartedly laughed, “I think I should be saying that. I distracted you from your food.”

“Umm… actually, would you mind helping me?” Anakin asked, tilting his head pleadingly.

“You need help with the console?” Obi-Wan asked, surprised.

“No, but I can’t choose. We don’t eat any of this stuff on Tatooine,” Anakin said with a grimace. “I ordered more cold cream this morning, but Qui-Gon said I couldn’t have that again, and the other thing was really gross.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know, it was some kind of egg on moss or something.” Anakin gagged in memory of it.

Obi-Wan failed at holding back a laugh. It was probably a Kalpi bulb if Anakin had tried to stick to the vegetarian menu. Qui-Gon must have struggled to finish it.

“Here, why don’t you try this.” Obi-Wan quickly flipped through the menu and landed on a noodle salad. “It’s tasty, and I know Qui-Gon likes it.”

“Yes!” Anakin quickly confirmed the order and settled down to wait. Obi-Wan stayed as well to order his own meal, but turned down Anakin’s offer to join him and Qui-Gon.

He needed to talk to Qui-Gon as well, but didn’t feel ready yet. He didn’t think Qui-Gon was either.

It wasn’t until the Queen revealed her plans and they arrived on Naboo that Obi-Wan approached Qui-Gon. His Master barely met his eyes as they discussed the plans. If Obi-Wan had to lose Qui-Gon as his Master, he would do whatever he could to make sure he didn’t lose him completely.

“I’m— I’m sorry for my behavior, Master, it’s not my place to disagree with you about the boy,” Obi-Wan apologized, looking up and meeting his Master’s eyes. “And I am grateful that you think I’m ready to take the Trials.” Obi-Wan dearly hoped Qui-Gon was right.

“You’ve been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said warmly, cutting at Obi-Wan’s heart with the statement’s significance. One way or another he would no longer be Qui-Gon’s Padawan.

Qui-Gon clasped his shoulder affectionately, “And you are a much wiser man than I am. I foresee you will become a great Jedi Knight.” Obi-Wan gave a tremulous smile in return, acknowledging the unsaid apology between them.

“Thank you, Master.” Obi-Wan bowed his head. Whatever lay ahead, they would face together, one last time.

A few hours later, they successfully infiltrated the Palace. The warning in the Force growing stronger until the doors of the hangar bay swung open, revealing the dark hooded Zabrak.

The darkness and danger that Obi-Wan had thought loomed over the boy, paled compared to the pure hatred and evil that pervaded the starfighter hanger and left no doubt of the truth. The Sith had returned.

Breath deliberately steady, Obi-Wan lit his lightsaber in concert with his Master, only to be matched by a blood-red dual blade of the Sith. He did not know if he was ready to be a Knight, but this day he needed to fight like one.

The moment the Zabrak attacked, Obi-Wan defended and flipped to surround their opponent, but the Sith managed to deflect and parry their attack. Their opponent was frighteningly skilled, spinning, and tumbling through the air with almost no effort. Each move clearly aiming for a kill. Without the need for communication, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan adjusted their attack, focusing on defense. They would need to outlast the Dark Sider.

The Sith’s viciousness still managed to take them off guard as Qui-Gon was kicked away during the next onslaught. Obi-Wan went on the attack, trying to buy his Master time to rebuild his defense. For a moment, Obi-Wan thought that he could hold his own as the Sith retreated into an adjoining hall, only to be easily kicked away just as Qui-Gon re-entered the battle. With a rush of nerves, Obi-Wan knew that individually they were outmatched; only together would they be able to triumph. He would not lose his Master this way.

Abruptly, the terrain changed from the narrow hall to a cavernous power station below the Palace. Now the acrobatic fighting style of the Sith was at full advantage and it was clear he had lured them here from the very beginning. Obi-Wan pushed harder, trying to compensate for the beginnings of fatigue he could feel from his Master. They had never fought such a skilled opponent with their lives on the line and, despite Qui-Gon’s experience, he no longer was a young man.

Obi-Wan paid for his hubris by being kicked off the catwalk, falling back towards the generators. He barely managed to catch onto one of the lower walkways, pulling himself up in time to spot Qui-Gon repaying the attack and following the Sith on a lower level that Obi-Wan could jump to. However, by the time he reached it, he was too late and they had already gotten far ahead, entering a small door at the edge of the plant.

Qui-Gon was being lured away.

Heart pounding, Obi-Wan sprinted towards the door, not daring to call out a warning and distract his Master even for an instant. The new hallway was lined with red security shields that had opened only temporarily, allowing the Sith and Qui-Gon through. Obi-Wan reached the door, only for the shields to activate, cutting both Obi-Wan and the Sith off from Qui-Gon. Breathing hard, Obi-Wan watched his Master use the moment of reprieve to fall into Meditation, even as the Sith continued to rage behind the closed shield.

Wait for me! Obi-Wan wished he could telepathically yell through their bond. Qui-Gon had to realize what the Sith was doing, had to see that this whole fight was an effort to try to separate them and rid them of their greatest strength—each other.

As soon as the shield dropped, Obi-Wan bolted forward, his legs straining, only for the last shield to slam shut the moment before he could make it out of the corridor. He watched through the shield as Qui-Gon and the Sith continued their battle around what looked like a melting pit. He was helpless until the shields finished their cycle, only able to desperately hope that Qui-Gon could last until they dropped.

Please, Master. You can do this—

The Sith abruptly changed his attack, feinting down before striking a brute force blow to Qui-Gon’s head, stunning him long enough to pull back and striking a finishing blow to Qui-Gon’s abdomen.

“NO!” Obi-Wan screamed, eyes wide in shock, unable to fully comprehend the critical injury for what it was.

Qui-Gon’s presence in the Force was beginning to fade.

The Force had tried to warn him, but Obi-Wan had never thought it would mean this.

Obi-Wan felt true hatred for the first time as he met the eyes of the Sith.

The shield fell, and with all the anger and fear in his heart, Obi-Wan attacked. He managed to hold his own against the Sith, slicing the light staff in half and evening the odds. Everything in Obi-Wan wanted to cut down the Zabrak, destroy him, and then run to his Master’s side.

Obi-Wan’s fear gave all the distraction the Sith needed to push him away with the Force, throwing Obi-Wan into the pit. He scarcely managed to grab hold of a warning light just below the rim of the pit as his lightsaber tumbled down into the abyss below.

Above him, the Sith paced, taunting him with sickening delight dancing in his yellow eyes, both of them knowing Obi-Wan had lost. In scarce minutes, Qui-Gon would be dead.

With nothing left to lose, Obi-Wan let go of his hatred and gave his will to the Force. If he was meant to die, then he wished to die the Jedi his Master would have wanted him to be.

Gathering all the strength left in him, Obi-Wan jumped, fully expecting to be cut down as he leaped out of the pit and beyond the Sith, calling his Master’s lightsaber to hand and slicing all in one motion. For a moment, the Sith stared back at him, face echoing his own shock of ending the fight so abruptly before falling back, two halves tumbling through the air. Horror and triumph froze Obi-Wan only an instant before he dived to his Master’s side.

Gently as he could, Obi-Wan lifted Qui-Gon’s head and shoulders, cradling his Master gently in his arms.

“Master...” he breathed out in a whisper.

Qui-Gon wasn’t gone yet. He must have held onto life through a Healing Trace just long enough to see the end of the battle. “Too late, my young Padawan...”

“No!” It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. But, it almost was. Obi-Wan could feel how far gone his Master was, painfully thin in the Living Force.

“Obi-Wan, promise… promise me you'll train the boy.” The words weakened Qui-Gon and cost Obi-Wan everything. He was barely ready to be a Knight, let alone be Master to the Chosen One.

Qui-Gon was meant to take the boy, meant to be a good and kind Master once more. Needed to be the Master that Obi-Wan could never be.

Obi-Wan gently covered Qui-Gon’s wound with his hand.

“No!” The horrified word choked out of Qui-Gon’s throat, draining energy and life with its vehemence.

“You promised,” Qui-Gon whispered, the anguish breaking his words as Obi-Wan fought within himself.

Obi-Wan had never broken his word to Qui-Gon after Yinchorri, and he had tried to listen to his Master, seeking to find a balance between giving and persevering. And he had found happiness along the way.

He had to choose. Qui-Gon was fading away.

Qui-Gon tenderly brushed his fingers on Obi-Wan’s cheek for the last time, “You must… go on…” Obi-Wan could feel his Master’s love in his words, but saw it for the attempt it was—to give Obi-Wan a purpose, a reason to live beyond his Master.

“You were wrong,” Obi-Wan whispered brokenly. His tears slipping down his cheek to splash on Qui-Gon’s. “I wasn’t ready to leave you.” Qui-Gon would never forgive him, would never forgive himself, would carry the burden of Obi-Wan’s death for the rest of his life.

But so would Obi-Wan. And it was his choice.

Obi-Wan’s Life Force touched Qui-Gon’s, swirling between them, giving Qui-Gon strength as Obi-Wan began to fade.

Qui-Gon’s face crumpled as he felt the vigor returning to him, his hand clenching tight over Obi-Wan’s, trying desperately to stop his Padawan.

“Obi-Wan, don’t do this. Stop. STOP!”

Obi-Wan poured everything he had into Qui-Gon, until he no longer could, his body crumbling to the ground.

“No, no, no,” Qui-Gon groaned, grabbing hold of Obi-Wan and cradling him in his arms.

“Sor’ry Master.” Obi-Wan’s voice was broken, his words barely a whisper as Qui-Gon lifted him off the ground. “You... are— will be— a good Master.” The words came painfully slow, as Qui-Gon raced to take Obi-Wan somewhere, anywhere.

It was too late though. They both knew that Qui-Gon couldn’t give back what Obi-Wan had given. He could only live and continue on as he had wanted Obi-Wan to do.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and in the peaceful warmth of his Master’s arms, fell into darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Qui-Gon raced through the power plant, Obi-Wan’s still form held tightly in his arms, terror pumping through his veins, driving him to move faster. 

He couldn’t lose Obi-Wan, not like this. Not again.

He had to get to Anakin. If he could get to Anakin, then maybe it wouldn’t be too late.

Qui-Gon couldn’t feel Obi-Wan in the Force, could only feel his Padawan’s body growing colder and heavier in his battle-weary arms.

Qui-Gon burst into the hangar, calling out for Anakin.

The hangar was deserted, the starships still away attempting to take down the droid ship.

“Anakin!” Qui-Gon yelled again, stumbling forward in denial, searching the hangar in vain. 

The hangar was empty, including the starship that Anakin had hidden in.

Qui-Gon’s knees gave beneath him, the pain unnoticed as he cradled Obi-Wan’s still form close, making sure that his Padawan wouldn’t feel the blow.

“He’ll be back,” Qui-Gon whispered, denying all evidence to the contrary.

He couldn’t lose Obi-Wan. Nothing would be left.

“Hold on, Obi-Wan. Please.” Qui-Gon ran a shaky hand through Obi-Wan’s hair, unable to pull away and acknowledge the emptiness in Obi-Wan’s eyes.

Even as a child, Obi-Wan had always been too willing to sacrifice himself, willing to give until there was nothing left. Qui-Gon had been a fool, blind until Obi-Wan offered himself upon the altar over and over again. From the first time on Banthomeer, he had never stopped. He had nearly died giving himself on Melida/Daan for Cerasi, and then on Yinchorri again for Qui-Gon, and now Naboo.

Tears began to tumble into Qui-Gon’s beard as a dozen memories tumbled through his mind, each haunting Qui-Gon more than the last. Each one digging deeper into Qui-Gon’s heart.

He hadn’t wanted to let Obi-Wan go, fearing in the depths of his heart that without Qui-Gon there, Obi-Wan wouldn’t come home. That one day Qui-Gon would say goodbye and never again see his Padawan again. He had delayed Obi-Wan’s Trials until the Force had made the choice for him.

And now he had lost Obi-Wan for good.

The sound that dragged itself from Qui-Gon’s lungs could barely be called human as he sobbed into Obi-Wan’s hair. Around him, starships began arriving in the hangar, meaningless as Qui-Gon tried to ignore how cold Obi-Wan’s cheek was against his own.

He had told Obi-Wan to rely on him to know how far was too far, but the truth was Obi-Wan had been his guide. His light in the shadow of Xanotos’ betrayal, in the darkness of Tahl’s death. Qui-Gon’s heart had shattered to pieces, and Obi-Wan had lacquered the shards together until Qui-Gon had felt almost whole again.

Now there was nothing left.

Someone was trying to talk to him. Qui-Gon stared dully at the pilot, not truly listening until another voice broke through.

“Master Qui-Gon! You wouldn’t believe what just happened! I know you said to stay put— but I really did stay in the cockpit, but it went into autopilot—” Anakin went silent as he reached their side.

“Master Qui-Gon… is Obi-Wan alright?”

Qui-Gon wanted to snarl, eviscerate the boy for not being there to save the only person Qui-Gon loved.

Instead, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and shook his head, another tear running freely down his cheek.

“Oh…” Anakin said, the word coming out soft and small. “Maybe… maybe I can help?” 

Qui-Gon clenched Obi-Wan tighter, no matter how close he held his Padawan, he couldn’t feel him. 

“It’s too late.” Qui-Gon barely managed to say the words, his throat closing around them.

“But I can try?” Anakin said hesitantly, touching Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Qui-Gon jerked the body away, lost in his grief. He had believed in Anakin, had rejected his Padawan in front of the council for him. Qui-Gon had never managed to apologize to Obi-Wan for it, not wanting either of them to dwell upon the hurt he had caused until he could explain properly.

Anakin was not easily dissuaded, catching hold on Obi-Wan’s hand. “Let me try.”

Couldn’t Anakin see that it was too late? Anakin could pull and pull from his Life Force, but there was nothing left to be refilled. Qui-Gon should stop him from trying, from giving too much, like Obi-Wan always succumbed to.

But Qui-Gon didn’t move, watching dully as Anakin poured his Life Force into Obi-Wan.

At first, it wasn’t anything like the Force Healing that Qui-Gon had experienced, Anakin’s well of Living Force impossibly deep and full but no matter how much Anakin poured into Obi-Wan, it bled away fruitlessly.

Anakin frowned, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, the steady stream turned into a rushing river, and now, for the first time, Qui-Gon could sense an emptiness left in its wake.

“Stop,” Qui-Gon croaked. Obi-Wan was dead, and no matter how Qui-Gon grieved there was no point in the boy dying as well.

“Almost— ” Anakin choked out and impossibly, the river of Anakin’s Life Force grew, threatening to pull the boy under. 

“Anakin, stop. It’s too late.” Qui-Gon weakly tried to pull Obi-Wan away, but Anakin’s grip held strong.

“I— got him,” Anakin whimpered.

A warm shallow breath caressed Qui-Gon’s cheek, and hope surged through Qui-Gon’s shattered heart. 

Qui-Gon looked to Anakin, the boy’s face pale and the current of his Life Force slowing to a trickle. His heart pounded as he watched the child’s life dwindle as the life in his arms grew stronger. If he tore Obi-Wan away Anakin would be safe, and Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan would be dead once again in his arms.

Obi-Wan’s life would be paid for by the sacrifice of a child.

Qui-Gon surged away, breaking Anakin’s hold and destroying Obi-Wan’s second chance and his own happiness forever.

Anakin collapsed back, dazed, but alive.

“Anakin!” A woman cried as she ran to the child’s side.

“Padme? Sorry— I’m real tired.” Anakin’s voice was shaky and weak, but his Life Force was already starting to rebuild.

“What’s wrong with him?!” Desperately, Padme looked to Qui-Gon. “We heard that he destroyed the droid ship. Was he injured?”

The Queen searched the boy for injuries as Anakin’s eyes closed.

“Get the stretchers! We must take them to the Medical Bay!” The Queen shouted orders as Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan close, wondering if he had failed all of them by pulling away too late.

Ordered chaos surrounded them as medical personnel filled the hangar. Qui-Gon stayed motionless, drowning in his despair. He hardly noticed as Anakin’s small frame was loaded onto a stretcher.

“If you aren’t going to put him down, then follow us.” The Queen snapped at Qui-Gon when he wouldn’t put Obi-Wan on the second stretcher. Instinctually, Qui-Gon pulled the body closer into his arms, refusing to let go.

“Qui-Gon.” Padme said again coaxingly, pulling at his arm, “He needs to get to a healer.”

Qui-Gon stared back, barely able to focus on her beyond Obi-Wan’s dead weight in his arms.

Padme searched Qui-Gon’s darkening eyes, before putting her fingers to Obi-Wan’s pulse.

Qui-Gon barely managed to stop a cry from surging out of his lungs as he jerked away. He didn’t want to know— 

“He’s alive, Qui-Gon, but I don’t know what's wrong with him.”

Qui-Gon heart missed a beat, and then the next. He looked at the Queen in disbelief. Instead of arguing, she grabbed Qui-Gon's hand, pulling it to Obi-Wan’s heart. Obi-Wan’s beating heart.  
“He’s—” Qui-Gon finally managed to move, but stumbled as his hold on Obi-Wan began to slip despite his every intention.

“Put him down, Qui-Gon. You can hold onto him on the way.”

Qui-Gon nodded his head jerkily, letting Obi-Wan slip down onto the hover stretcher, terrified that at any moment his Padawan would slip away for good.

With Obi-Wan loaded onto the stretcher, the medical team was able to rush to the Medical Bay where doctors were already looking over Anakin, their confusion evident. 

The medical knowledge on Naboo didn’t extend to the mysteries of the Force, but the staff still tried their best to stabilize Anakin and Obi-Wan. Anakin was seemingly only exhausted, but Obi-Wan—- Obi-Wan had been clinically dead before Anakin somehow brought him back. It was impossible to know if there was anything left.

Once the panicked rush of Healers faded, Qui-Gon called the Council at Obi-Wan’s bedside and recounted what had happened.

“Still alive, Obi-Wan is?” Yoda asked, his worry clear in the hologram as his ears raised with alarm.

Qui-Gon nodded, unable to trust his voice.

“Bring Healer Vokara Che we will, familiar with Padawan Kenobi she is.”

Qui-Gon concluded his call with the Council and returned his attention to Obi-Wan. All he could do now was to wait and hope.

Qui-Gon held Obi-Wan’s hand in his, the now steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep as he rested his head on Obi-Wan’s bed.

Two days later when the Jedi Healer, Vokara, arrived, she had immediately set upon both he and Obi-Wan, demanding that he leave for rest. Qui-Gon resisted, unwilling to leave his Padawan’s side. 

Exasperated, the Healer assured him that Obi-Wan was stable before turning her attention to Anakin, who woke after only a night of sleep. The boy had bounced back from his strange manipulation of the Force like it was nothing. He had tried talking to Qui-Gon afterward, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn his attention to the boy. Eventually, Anakin left and hadn’t come back.

Mace found Qui-Gon by Obi-Wan’s side that evening.

“When was the last time you saw a Sonic?” Mace prodded, foregoing greetings. 

Qui-Gon’s only answer was a low grunt, not even looking up to acknowledge Mace’s arrival.

“Don’t do this Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan wouldn’t want you to fall apart like this.” Mace continued to needle, striding to the other side of Obi-Wan’s bed.

“Then he shouldn’t have traded his life for mine,” Qui-Gon growled, bloodshot eyes finally meeting Mace’s.

“He wanted to save you, don’t let that sacrifice be in vain.”

Qui-Gon shook his head, burying his face in his hands. “He saved me years ago, Mace. I was ready to let go as long as he— he took that from me. He may as well have killed us both.”

“Bantha shit,” Mace swore, bending down to Qui-Gon’s level, hands braced on Obi-Wan’s bed. “You would have expected him to continue on, so that’s exactly what you’ll do.”

Qui-Gon looked up wearily, “And what do you expect me to do, Mace?”

“Train the boy!” Mace waved his hand vaguely towards wherever Anakin was. “You’ve pulled yourself together countless times before, you can do it again.”

Qui-Gon scoffed.

“This is why attachment is discouraged, you need to rely on the Force!” Mace rebuked. 

“Humans need more than the Force, Mace!” Qui-Gon snarled, “The Council forgets what it’s like to live, to love, and care about those around you.”

“We keep balance, we don’t live one day and give up the next,” Mace yelled back. “You have responsibilities, figure it out!”

“You’re acting like he’s already dead,” Qui-Gon spoke quietly, the silence before the storm.

Mace folded his arms, well aware that he was on the brink of going too far. “I spoke to Vokara.”

Qui-Gon might as well not have heard him as he cupped Obi-Wan’s cheek, brushing his thumb over a cold cheekbone, removing a nonexistent smudge.

“She said that Obi-Wan was likely dead for more than twenty minutes before whatever the boy did worked.”

Qui-Gon’s hand trailed down, gently looping his fingers around Obi-Wan’s Padawan braid as he did so.

“Qui-Gon, he may be breathing, but he’s gone. You need to move on.”

“I will not.” Qui-Gon’s words left no room for argument.

“Then what of the boy? You brought him before the Council, we have decided that he should be trained.”

Mace almost gave up as Qui-Gon’s silence drew on.

“I will watch over him.” Qui-Gon’s bitter words were hardly reassuring, sounding more like the acceptance of a prison sentence than a Master taking on an apprentice.

Still, Mace would take what he could, “Then do so. Last I saw he was playing with the Queen’s handmaids.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his eyes stuck on Obi-Wan’s hand clasped in his.

“Oh, and Qui-Gon? Go find a sonic shower first.”

Qui-Gon stared hopelessly at Obi-Wan’s hand long after Mace had left until finally he wrenched himself away. He mindlessly went through the motions to clean himself up before searching out Anakin, finding him with Padme.

“Queen Amidala,” Qui-Gon greeted formally, reminding both children of the young girl’s duties.

“Master Qui-Gon.” Padme rose quickly, a mask of formality settling on her like a second skin, “Is there any change in Padawan Kenobi’s condition?”

Qui-Gon’s jaw tightened, a simple shake of the head all the answer he could give.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Anakin, I think it’s time we talked.”

Anakin nodded quickly, his eyes wide and worried. “Um, yeah, okay. I’ll see you later Padme.”

Padme said her goodbyes and whispered something to Anakin before leaving, looking back at them warily.

“Healer Vokara said that you have recovered?” Qui-Gon asked softly, gesturing Anakin to follow him into one of the interior courtyards of the palace.

Anakin winced, no doubt remembering why he had overextended himself, “Um, yeah—she said that she’s never met anyone like me. I really like her, she said that I could help her whenever I wanted—”

Qui-Gon held out his hand to silence Anakin’s rambling. “I’m glad that you’re alright.”

Would Anakin have been able to save Obi-Wan if he had obeyed and stayed in the hangar? Would those ten minutes have made a difference? These were questions Qui-Gon should have never even thought, but were almost tangible between them.

“I’m really sorry, Qui-Gon… I really thought I could save him,” Anakin whispered, kicking a rock down the path.

Qui-Gon felt like he had been punched in the gut. Anakin may have powers beyond belief, but he was still only human. He couldn’t be in more than one place at the same time. It was Qui-Gon who had failed Obi-Wan, first when he had lost to the Sith, and, more importantly, when he failed to convince Obi-Wan of his own worth.

He had stopped in his tracks, covering his eyes and the tears trying to overflow.

“Master Qui-Gon?” Anakin asked hesitantly.

“It’s not your fault, Anakin,” Qui-Gon managed, wiping away his tears and starting forward, “You did everything you could.”

Anakin silently walked behind him until Qui-Gon was ready to begin again, “The Council has given their permission for your training. You will be a Jedi.”

There was no jubilation at the announcement.

“...Does this mean that you’ll be my Master?”

Qui-Gon didn’t want to be.

He had felt the Force’s Will for Anakin was to join the Jedi, learn control and temperance, but never the connection that brought Obi-Wan to him. Instead, it felt blank, empty—like the plains of Moher. Any choice equal to the next.

Qui-Gon would be as bad or as good as any Master out of a dozen. It didn’t matter except as a path for Anakin to achieve his destiny.

“Perhaps.” Qui-Gon couldn’t do it, couldn’t accept this child into his heart when it felt like he didn’t even have one left. “You will begin as an initiate, most children your age are. There you will learn the basics before becoming a Padawan.”

“What do you mean by basics?” Anakin said, disgruntled. 

“Meditation, Languages, and Culture,” Qui-Gon listed off, allowing himself a small smile at Anakin’s look of horror. 

“There will be Mathematics and Saber practice as well.”

“Oh…” Anakin looked somewhat appeased. “There will be other kids too?”

“Yes, you’ll have a Creche Master you can go to as well.”

“Who will they be?” Anakin asked worriedly.

“I— I’m not sure. We will have to see when we go back to the Temple.”

Anakin walked silently with Qui-Gon for a few minutes before saying goodbye and running off. Qui-Gon stared after for a moment before going into the cool shade of a nearby tree, where he tried to Meditate, seeking peace within the Force.

All he found was grief.

When Qui-Gon returned to the Medical Bay, Vokara was speaking to Anakin with a smile. She turned when Qui-Gon entered and raised a critical brow.

“Well, at least you’ve showered.”

Qui-Gon ignored her, going back to Obi-Wan’s side. The hard-backed chair had been replaced with an overly cushioned recliner. Qui-Gon cast a questioning glance at Vokara.

“At least this way, you’ll maybe actually get some rest,” Vokara defended herself, ushering Anakin out the door. 

Qui-Gon sank into the overly plush chair and took Obi-Wan’s hand, feeling his slow pulse.

“You’re doing no good by sticking to his side like this you know, and there is another boy who is dying for attention,” Vokara spoke as she moved around the room.

“I spoke with Anakin earlier,” Qui-Gon said quietly.

“Yes, I heard.” Vokara said critically, “I thought you meant to take the boy as your Padawan?”

Qui-Gon shook his head, “Not now.”

“Hmm…” Vokara reached Obi-Wan’s bedside, “Perhaps it's for the best.”

They both looked at Obi-Wan in silence.

“He’s not getting better, Qui-Gon,” Vokara said quietly.

Qui-Gon’s hand involuntarily tightened its hold, “He’s still breathing.”

Vokara took her time before replying, “No one has ever managed to do what Anakin did a few days ago. There were once great Jedi Healers who gave their lives to save others, but no one has ever been brought back from the dead Qui-Gon.”

Qui-Gon’s shoulders hunched around him, “People die and are resuscitated, after minutes—even hours—pass. “

“Not when their mind has passed through the Force.” Vokara tried to put a comforting hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder only for him to jerk away.

She sighed wearily and moved away, “I’ve healed all the damage done by his death, Qui-Gon, but it doesn’t matter if there’s nothing left to come back. It would be kinder to—”

“Stop. Please.” Qui-Gon wiped away at the tears that landed on Obi-Wan’s hand.

“Okay, Qui-Gon,” Vokara said mercifully, “but we have to decide at some point.”

Qui-Gon buried his head and silently wept as Vokara left the room.

When Qui-Gon awoke it was dark outside, night long since having fallen.

In the shadows, it was easy to imagine that Obi-Wan was only asleep. How long would they give him before they took the decision out of his hands? How long before Obi-Wan would be laid to sleep forever?

“You weren’t supposed to die before me,” Qui-Gon whispered into the darkness. A Padawan was meant to outgrow their Master, to live beyond them, not the other way around.

“You were going to be a wonderful Knight.” Qui-Gon tearfully continued, “You always doubted yourself, but I saw it every time I looked at you. I kept you back like the selfish old man I am.”

Qui-Gon buried his head against Obi-Wan’s side. Vokara was right, but it didn’t matter, Qui-Gon couldn’t let go, even if he wanted to.

He held Obi-Wan’s hand, the steady heartbeat a false comfort, nothing like the bright gleam of Obi-Wan’s eyes. The spark of laughter on the tip of his tongue. 

For the first time since the duel, Qui-Gon masochistically reached out through their bond, knowing that at the end of it nothing but darkness would greet him, but needing to do so anyway.

Within the Force, the bond was slivered, broken— dull and grey in the direction of Obi-Wan’s still living body, bright and scattered in a shard ricocheting in all directions.

Confused, Qui-Gon followed the bright shard of the bond and was met with a pool of gentle warmth.

“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon croaked, recognizing the intangible touch of Obi-Wan’s gentle heart.

“Obi-Wan… Please come back to me,” Qui-Gon pleaded, trying to draw the bright glow of his Padawan back. Whenever he tried to touch it, it scattered again.

Qui-Gon didn’t understand, didn’t know what was happening, but within the Force, he listened.

The shards fragmented and weaved around him, becoming stronger as it reached back through their bond. Love and sorrow equally growing until Qui-Gon was utterly overwhelmed, then suddenly it pulled back, gone.

Horrified, Qui-Gon reached out, desperately seeking Obi-Wan’s warmth. Nothing reaching back. 

Qui-Gon opened his eyes, blinking back tears. The Force had given him one last time to say goodbye and he had wasted it. 

Qui-Gon clutched Obi-Wan’s hand as fresh tears stung at his bloodshot eyes. 

Obi-Wan groaned.

Qui-Gon felt himself begin to hyperventilate, becoming light-headed as he saw Obi-Wan open his eyes.

Obi-Wan looked at him blearily, before letting out a relieved sigh, “Master—thank the Force.”

Qui-Gon’s hands were shaking as he cupped Obi-Wan’s face, “Obi-Wan—what—” Qui-Gon stumbled over his words.

“I tried to hold on.” Obi-Wan mumbled, “I didn’t want to go, but I couldn’t get back.”

Qui-Gon swore, praying to the Force that this wasn’t all a dream as he gathered Obi-Wan in his arms and rocked him tightly.

“You're not dead,” Qui-Gon whispered tightly.

“I don’t think so?” Obi-Wan answered hesitantly.

Suddenly Qui-Gon pulled back, grabbing Obi-Wan’s shoulders forcefully, almost shaking him. “How could you do that to me?! After everything—”

“You would have done the same. You were going to leave me to teach the boy—”

“I was going to leave you to live your life. To find happiness—”

“I was happy with you!” 

“And you would have been happy again! If you just wouldn’t throw your life away—”

“I wouldn’t have! It was a fair trade and I’d do it again!” Obi-Wan snapped back.

Qui-Gon jerked away as if he had been burned, leaving Obi-Wan to flop back against the pillows.

“Then I have utterly failed you.” Qui-Gon lamented, “All these years I’ve spent trying to convince you that you're worth something, all for nothing.”

“You succeeded Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan sat up and took hold of Qui-Gon’s closest hand. “I didn’t save you out of selflessness, or as self-sacrifice, like you are always lecturing me about.”

Qui-Gon opened his mouth to point out how very necessary those lectures had been, but Obi-Wan’s slight squeeze of his hand silenced him.

“You didn’t want to leave me, and I didn’t want to leave you, but no matter what I did, one or the other had to happen, and in the end, I decided I didn’t want to be the one to live without you.” Obi-Wan smiled tremulously as Qui-Gon met his eyes. “See, I can be selfish after all.”

“Then I was trying to teach you the wrong lesson all along.” Qui-Gon cupped Obi-Wan’s face within his hands. “I want you to be happy, Obi-Wan, to live on without me.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan squeezed Qui-Gon’s wrist, “But, it wasn’t your choice.”

Qui-Gon swore and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms, nearly dragging him off the bed and onto the chair in the process. “You clearly can’t be trusted with your own life, Padawan,” Qui-Gon muttered into Obi-Wan’s hair.

Obi-Wan, for his part, sank into Qui-Gon’s embrace, unsure how he was still alive, but happy to be so. Somehow, despite the impossibility, they had both come out of the duel with the Sith alive. Qui-Gon tiredly continued to murmur that he’d never forgive Obi-Wan for taking that choice even as he held his Padawan tightly. Obi-Wan listened complacently, allowing Qui-Gon’s heartbeat to lull him into sleep. 

The next morning Vokara woke them by yelling at Qui-Gon for pulling Obi-Wan off the bed, “What were you thinking! I knew I should have thrown that blasted chair out while I had the chance.”

Obi-Wan flinched and raised his head from Qui-Gon’s shoulder, making Vokara scream in shock.

The next few hours were filled with a myriad of tests and questions, but Obi-Wan could only answer so many.

He remembered fading away, but somehow he had held on to the last string, the last shard of the bond he shared with Qui-Gon. There had been a pull, almost like gravity, tugging him away, but he hadn’t been ready to leave. Vokara was fascinated by the experience, believing that it could be evidence of a spiritual echo phenomenon. 

Most importantly, Qui-Gon was grilled over and over about how he managed to reconnect Obi-Wan to his body.

The Council gave them a few days to recover and attend the victory celebration on Naboo before requesting their presence on Coruscant.

Anakin tearfully said goodbye to an equally heartbroken Padme before latching to Vokara’s side. The Healer seemed equally taken with Anakin, happily explaining her work in the Jedi Temple to the boy.

Qui-Gon, on the other hand, was silently condemning Obi-Wan’s choice while also sticking to him like glue.

“Master… you cannot be upset with me forever.”

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow, “I assure you Obi-Wan, I am quite adept at holding grudges.” 

Obi-Wan sighed, setting a bowl of soup in front of them both. They were back to normal ship rations, the passengers' ship they were on hardly comparable with the Queen’s vessel, though in very good condition.

“If you don’t want me dying to save you, you should avoid doing so.” Obi-Wan’s snark was completely unwelcome.

“I have lived much longer than you and managed to do so up until now, Padawan,” Qui-Gon reminded.

Obi-Wan smiled and silently took a sip of soup. “Well it's good you have so much practice then, Master.”

**Epilogue**

Despite Qui-Gon’s change in heart regarding taking a new Padawan, the Council conferred Knighthood to Obi-Wan upon their arrival to Coruscant, before sending him away to gain the independence of his new station. 

Qui-Gon was left alone, empty-handed, as Anakin was moved first into the Creche and then leaving to become Healer Vokara’s Padawan. With his ability combined with Vokara’s knowledge, the Master and Padawan quickly became the favored Field Medics of the Order.

Qui-Gon slowly got used to being alone, his own missions dull and tedious without Obi-Wan’s bone-dry humor. He was left to wait impatiently for Obi-Wan’s holograms, his amusing re-tellings the highlight of Qui-Gon’s days.

Qui-Gon was relistening to one from Obi-Wan’s mission to Moher in the Garden of a Thousand Fountains when he heard footsteps drawing near.

“That one is almost three months old,” Obi-Wan said with amusement

Qui-Gon struggled to hide the matching smile he felt at the sight of his old Padawan. He looked down at the disc as though just noticing the fact, “Ah, so it is. I must have mixed them up.” He quickly slipped it back into his pocket.

Obi-Wan eyed him with a playful tilt to his head, “Do you mind if I sit down?”

Qui-Gon moved over easily, happy to see Obi-Wan, even if he didn’t show it.

“I take it you’re still mad at me?” Obi-Wan questioned facetiously.

Qui-Gon grunted in reply. Obi-Wan continued to be unremorseful for what he had done and had refused to agree to never do it again. It scared Qui-Gon to the depths of his soul every time Obi-Wan left, always questioning if this would be the last time.

“It’s been a year, Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan said with a sigh, “Haven’t I proven that I’m not going to get myself killed at every turn?”

Qui-Gon scoffed with the hint of a smile, “Luck, Obi-Wan. You forget that I have listened to all your holograms.”

A grin brightened Obi-Wan’s eyes, “Ah, so it must remind you of someone.” 

The prod was recognized for what it was. “I don’t believe I’ve ever lept from a one hundred story building.”

“I do however, seem to recall you joining a stampede of Tyhtonian raptors.”

Qui-Gon huffed out a laugh, folding his arms, “I recall you being right there beside me.”

Obi-Wan laughed as well, “You wouldn’t be wrong.” They sat together peacefully for a moment, happy in one another’s company despite the time and distance that had settled between them.

“I’ve been asked to attend the next solstice festival on Scarif,” Obi-Wan suddenly broke the silence.

“Ah,” Qui-Gon said quietly. They had gone to the tropical planet together just a few years ago, it was a good memory.

“Would you like to come with me?”

Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan’s gaze, startled. 

“It’s been a year, Qui-Gon. I can partner with other Jedi if I wish now.” Obi-Wan looked strangely hopeful.

“You couldn’t possibly want to drag your old Master to Scarif, have you asked—” Qui-Gon searched his memory for a suitable companion, “Quinlan Vos?”

Obi-Wan choked on a laugh, “No, and I hardly want to.” He grew more serious, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but… I always thought that we were good partners. Towards the end.”

Qui-Gon studied Obi-Wan, “Not that last mission.”

Obi-Wan’s good humor faded away, “I won’t say sorry, Qui-Gon. I don’t regret it.”

Qui-Gon winced, “No, I know. It— it wasn’t you that failed that mission Obi-Wan.”

“You still blame yourself?” Obi-Wan asked gently. 

“I didn’t listen to you,” Qui-Gon said mournfully.

“To be fair, a good part of what I said was pretty stupid,” Obi-Wan said lightly, the hurt and fear of those moments long faded.

“I almost—when I ran ahead I only was thinking of ending the fight before you could be hurt. I know that it was your choice to sacrifice yourself, but it was my choice that made it even an option. I wasn’t a good Master,… let alone, partner.”

Obi-Wan clasped Qui-Gon’s arm warmly, “‘We all make mistakes and must learn from them.’ Come with me.”

Qui-Gon covered Obi-Wan’s hand with his own, “Just this time?”

“Next time too, if you want.” Obi-Wan offered, his smile tentative, expecting the worst.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”


End file.
